


Hathaway - Episode 3: A Damn Good Trashing

by RiverM_Hathaway



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: F/M, Other Characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 20:43:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15494283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiverM_Hathaway/pseuds/RiverM_Hathaway
Summary: After the events at the print works, Team Hathaway are forced to operate one team member down. It is Thrashing season at the university and that normally brings chaos. However, Hathaway is unprepared for the circumstances surrounding these events and his existing relationship with Caroline...





	Hathaway - Episode 3: A Damn Good Trashing

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> The episodes just keep rolling off the production line! Welcome to Episode 3 of 6 of 'Hathaway'! Thank you so much for your continued support! The response to the previous two episodes have been fantastic across the board and I would like to say how much I appreciate it. It gives me more impetus to write more and improve - and it can only get better!
> 
> We are getting to know more about each character, Hathaway especially. Without any spoilers, it seems he is going back to his old ways. Will he or can he be saved? 
> 
> Episode 4 is currently in the pipeline and will be started this week. I have set a closing date for a full series completion by the end of October, so fingers crossed I will achieve this. Once again, this is written in a screenplay format; and as always, I hope I still capture the aura that was 'Lewis' (with my own spin on it).
> 
> So, as always, happy reading! Enjoy the ride and I will reply to all comments posted. Take care!
> 
> With warm regards and Hathaway love,
> 
> River

It was mid-afternoon in Oxford and within the city's streets, shouts and calls from various voices were heard ringing through. A few young adults ran down the road holding what looked like various items in their hands, all filled to the brim. They were chasing a couple of other people their age calling after them. They ran down a passage way and past the Radcliffe Camera where they flung the items in their direction. The crash of the glass hit the cobblestones and the coloured contents spilled all over. The students' targets laughed out loud only to sprint away as the others gave chase.

Inside one student house, a young girl with dark blonde locks and brown eyes opened her dressing table drawers and took out a box. Inside were some items of jewellery and she chose some gold hoop earrings. She bent slightly so she could use the mirror as guidance whilst she slid them into her earlobes. Once done, she placed the box back into the drawer and closed it, locking it securely. She then placed the key into what looked like an old face powder container and took one more look at herself before grabbing a cloth bag from a chair by the door and walking out. As she closed the door behind her locking it, two of her housemates both with plastic containers in their hands walked past her down the corridor chatting away. They all wished each other a good one before they walked down the stairs. The girl watched as they disappeared, and her face fell. She slung her bag on her shoulder and followed them, walking out of the front door.

* * *

Detective Sergeant Stephen Hazel opened his eyes and saw the ceiling. He was still off sick but due to return to work any time now. He blinked a few times to get accustomed to the afternoon light and sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He noticed his reflection in a full-length mirror not far in front of him and sighed heavily. He didn't look very good. In fact, ever since the attempt on his life, his wellbeing had taken a battering: his light olive skin wasn't in the best condition and his brown eyes looked heavy with dark circles forming underneath. His dark hair wasn't in the best of health neither and he definitely needed a shave. He had lost a bit of weight in the process, too. Hazel groaned and got back into bed, covering himself with the duvet locking the rest of the day away.

* * *

James Hathaway meanwhile was sitting at his desk at the station finishing off some paperwork from an arrest he made not too long ago. That was another successful result to add to his tally and perhaps Bright will now leave him alone. He signed the papers off and chucked the folder into his out tray. He took a look at the empty desk of Hazel's and wondered when he would be coming back. An additional desk was currently being set up nearby, Fraise and his team installing the equipment and a contractor was busy adding Gemma's name plaque to the door. Hathaway watched them for a little while, his thoughts turning to his new junior officer and wondered how she was doing. Her mother had taken her back home to London to recuperate once she was fit enough to be discharged but he had heard nothing since. She came worse off than Hazel and Hathaway knew it may take longer for her to return. He had nothing against the rest of the detectives in the unit, but he had become accustomed to Gemma and knew she had loads of potential to be successful. Besides, he had grown used to being called 'guv'. His thoughts were rudely interrupted by his phone ringing. Hathaway sat up straight and picked up his desk phone glancing at his mobile and wondered why that didn't ring instead. He put the phone down once the call had finished and grabbed his suit jacket from behind his chair as he walked out.

* * *

The dark blonde student walked through the city centre trying to avoid the duels that were taking place around her. It wasn't going to be easy as it seemed half of Oxford were involved! She quickly moved out of the way as two students ran past her and nearly bumped into someone in the process. She quickly apologised and went on her way. She saw a sandwich shop and decided to go in.

* * *

The photographer took pictures of the body as it was lying quite gruesomely in a heap by some bushes near a car park. Doctor Aurora walked through the undergrowth and stepped out. She took off her gloves and walked over to Hathaway, who had not long arrived, and noticed he was on his own. Hathaway took off his shades to greet her and noticed the look on the pathologist's face. He smiled somewhat cheekily at her and Aurora could not help but break into a smile.

"Your troops deserted you, have they?" she asked. Hathaway grinned as a reaction.  _If it worked with Laura Hobson…_ "The body in there. It's not a pretty sight. Decomposition has taken place and I am going to be lucky if I can get hold of their dental records."

The grin on Hathaway's face disappeared. He sighed, and Aurora looked at him with empathy. "Could you tell me anything about what happened?" he asked, hoping there was something basic to work with. Aurora walked over to her car and he followed.

"You want my honest opinion – ask the animals that saw them as a tasty meal." Hathaway squirmed. "Exactly why I will be lucky to get something from their teeth!" She opened the boot of her car. "You want something to work on… I think the victim was part of a joke gone wrong."

"What do you mean?" Hathaway asked. He took the metal case from the car for Aurora.

"Thank you, James." Aurora took her belongings from him and he closed the door securely. "It's thrashing season." They began retracing their steps. "There are some coloured bits and pieces nearby. My team are looking for the container it came in."

"Could it be something else you think?"

"Confetti? You think this as a stag or hen do?" Hathaway took note of the tone of her voice. "No. This is definitely thrashing. Except our victim was subject to another kind of thrashing instead." Hathaway stopped by the undergrowth as Aurora walked ahead. She stopped and turned. "I will do my best for you, James," she told him before walking back up. Hathaway watched as she disappeared and didn't like the sound of this one bit. He knew he had to wait for Aurora's report as he walked back to his car. Once inside, he took out his phone and placed it to his ear waiting for the other person to pick up only to get a voicemail greeting instead.

"Caroline, it's me. I'm just seeing how you are. I know you weren't yourself this morning. Give me a call when you can. Love you." He placed his phone inside his jacket pocket and turned the key in the ignition.

* * *

The female student came out of the sandwich shop having had something to eat. She walked down George Street turning the corner into Cornmarket and became lost in amongst the throng of locals and tourists. She could hear the sound of horns in the distance behind her and the cries of the students. She managed to get through the crowd and saw a bus turning a corner into St. Aldate's. Quickly, she sprinted and just managed to make it in time, stepping inside and taking a spare seat once she showed her pass to the driver.

* * *

The sound of a mobile phone vibrating was heard from a side table and what followed caused Hazel to sit up almost immediately. He realised it was his ringtone and shook his head violently trying to get shot of the sleep in his eyes. He reached over to pick it up and upon seeing Hathaway's name immediately answered.

"Sir?" he asked rather sleepily. He listened carefully. "What now? But, sir, I am not due back for another few days! It's…" He picked up his wristwatch which was lying nearby, "nearly 4pm!" But, he knew from the tone of Hathaway's voice it was urgent. "All right. Give me an hour, sir. Dinner's on you!" He quickly cancelled the call before Hathaway had even a chance to respond and chucked his phone away towards the foot of the bed. He would definitely be claiming this as overtime! Hazel groaned loudly and rubbed his eyes and scratched his head. He stood up and dragged his feet towards the door, stopping by the mirror. He noticed the rather obvious wound in his neck, the skin still sore. Hazel covered it with his hand and tried not to think about that fateful day. He grabbed a towel from a chair and opened his bedroom door heading for the bathroom.

* * *

Chief Superintendent Bright looked at both Hathaway and Hazel later on that day. She was being kept back, which didn't impress her, but was aware of the urgency. She took more note of how Hazel was in front of her and was concerned about his demeanour. Although he made an effort like he always did, Hazel wasn't altogether himself. He was dressed smartly, that wasn't the issue, but rather the exhausted and fatigued look about him. Bright knew he was asked back just a little too early; and she should have rather have had him been given the once over by the station doctor and getting the all clear from him before even thinking of expecting him back. She glanced at Hathaway, who was feeling a tad guilty and sighed.

"Well… Let's have it," she said. "What is the urgency?"

"Dead body, ma'am."

Bright continued to stare at Hathaway.

"And this couldn't wait until the morning, could it?" She glanced at Hazel who was giving a look of gratitude.

"No, ma'am." Hathaway continued to look straight ahead.

"Well, go on then!"

"A body was discovered by a car park just outside the city," Hathaway began. "According to Aurora, the body was well past decomposition."

"Dental records?"

"Yes, ma'am. That is what she will try and obtain. She has a guess it is to do with thrashing."

"Thrashing?"

"There were some coloured bits and pieces found nearby." Bright thought about things for a moment letting the information sink in. She looked at Hazel.

"You know what that is don't you?" she asked.

"I do, yes, ma'am." Hazel replied. He reached up to massage his neck.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay, ma'am." Hathaway glanced at his junior officer. Bright looked back at Hathaway.

"Well, before you two go off to investigate this, I want Stephen here to see the station doctor. Now, I want no objections from you, Hathaway! Stephen has been through a lot. I just want him to be okay so he can assist you properly, James. I know it hasn't been easy for you." The look on Hathaway's face relaxed slightly. He nodded eventually and Hazel was more at ease. "I'll arrange it for the morning, Stephen."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am."

"I've heard from Shirley about Gemma."

"Ma'am?" Hathaway's ears pricked up.

"She is struggling to get the sensation back in her neck and right shoulder. Her right arm is also suffering as a consequence. She is seeing a specialist."

Hazel bowed his head. Hathaway didn't like what he heard. The two officers walked out upon dismissal and they headed for their office.

They sat down at their desks without a word passing between them, the news of Gemma displeasing them. Hazel took a look at the newly set up desk of his friend and hoped she will be okay. Hathaway was feeling the same.

"So, nothing is known about the body yet, sir?" Hazel asked. Hathaway shook his head. "And it is definitely to do with thrashing?"

"Looks like it. Aurora is trying to obtain the dental records."

"A student prank gone wrong you think?"

"If it is, it was a hell of a prank!" Hathaway sighed.

"Is everything all right, sir?" Even though Hazel was inconvenienced, he still cared about Hathaway. Hathaway didn't answer and took out what looked like some flyers from inside his desk drawer.

"Have a choice," he told him throwing them on the desk as he walked past. Hazel looked at the take away menus as Hathaway left and, although he wasn't overly hungry, he knew Hathaway would need him at least for a few hours. He chose one and took a pen from the pot in front of him circling a few dishes from the list.

* * *

Hathaway woke up the next morning by the soft call of the alarm on his mobile phone. He groaned and reached over expecting Caroline to be there. As his arm flopped down hitting the covers, Hathaway opened his eyes fully. He was alone. He finally silenced the alarm and sat up on the edge of the bed. There were some items missing from the dressing table and as he opened up the wardrobe to take out a clean shirt, he saw that Caroline's side was half empty with only a few items of clothing left on the hangers. He closed the door and turned. His reflection in the full-length mirror startled him, but he noticed a familiar red dress hanging on a cupboard handle. Hathaway studied it carefully, imaging Caroline in it, but also the style of the dress itself. He took note of the time on the clock nearby and hung his shirt on a hook by the mirror as he opened the bedroom door, heading for the bathroom where he closed the door, the sound of the shower bursting into life behind it.

* * *

Stephen Hazel took deep breaths as the doctor started his once over. The pad of the stethoscope was cold. The doctor said nothing as he walked behind to place the pad at various points on his back. Hazel took more deep breaths wondering what the verdict was. As he stood up to tuck his shirt in, he was asked to take a seat by the desk and to roll up his sleeve. Hazel slowly did as was asked. This was not over yet.

* * *

The sound of thumping and laughter echoed through the walls of a darkened bedroom followed by a half drunken 'ssh'. The female student with dark blonde hair opened her eyes upon hearing the noise and blinked slowly. She was in bed, the curtains drawn. A shaft of sunlight was shining through the gap lightening up the fairly bright paint on the walls. The student sighed heavily and got up.

She walked out of her room in her dressing gown, her feet crunching the coloured bits and pieces underneath and walked down the stairs. The landing was a mess. She kicked some loose newspaper pages aside as she made her way past various empty wine bottles strewn to the sides and other unsavoury items towards the kitchen. What met her was an even bigger and untidier mess. There were empty and half empty pizza boxes on the dining table and ledges with the sink full of crockery and the big chrome pedal bin open with rubbish nearly overflowing. The recycling crates were also full of glass bottles and jars. The student turned up her nose at the slight stench and managed to open a couple of windows. She turned her attentions to the fridge and opened it only to find it more or less empty. Not even a decent supply of milk was inside. She closed the door, looked around with a sigh and began to tidy things up.

* * *

Hazel handed over the doctor's report to Bright and she sat down in her chair to read it quietly to herself. The look on her face wasn't best pleased, but this would have to do. She sat up and leaned forward to take up her fountain pen to sign it off. Hazel, smartly dressed as always, waited patiently in front of her.

"How are you feeling?" she asked him again.

"Not bad, thank you."

"Hathaway didn't keep you back for long last night, did he?"

"No, ma'am. I was back in bed by ten."

"Good." She finished signing off the report and fixed the cap back on the pen. "If you feel you cannot do this at any time, Stephen…"

"Thank you, ma'am. I'll be sure to let the guv know." He stopped suddenly as he realised what he just said. To his surprise, Bright nearly laughed. Before she could speak, the sound of her phone made her pick up. She nodded and politely dismissed Hazel. He closed the door behind him and walked down the corridor towards his office. Hathaway was already there looking at some papers he had in front of him. He looked up upon hearing shuffling and saw Hazel walking in. He set the papers aside and watched as his junior officer sat down at his desk and logged back into his computer.

"How did it go?" he asked.

"I passed, sir," Hazel replied stretching the truth slightly. "Bright signed the paper."

Hathaway nodded pleased Hazel was back. He would need him more now. Their brainstorming didn't come to any fruition the night before. As Hazel began going through his emails, he snuck a quick look at Hathaway, who had long gone back to his paperwork. He knew something was wrong with him personally, that perhaps he needed company and Hazel felt for him. He wondered if everything was all right between him and Caroline as Hathaway wasn't his usual self… Actually, when was he ever his usual self! He noticed Hathaway always had his phone near to him, ready to pick up as soon as it rung. He wanted to enquire, try to get him to speak, but Hazel knew better. As he went back to his emails, the sound of Hathaway's phone rung and was picked up within one ring. Hazel tried to concentrate on deleting a few emails when he heard the last sentence of the conversation. He looked up as Hathaway unslung his jacket from the back of his chair.

"Let's go," he told him. "Aurora wants us." Hazel nodded as Hathaway walked past him out the door and he quickly locked his computer. He noticed what looked like a red piece of clothing poking out of a plastic bag by Hathaway's desk. "HAZEL!" Hathaway's voice bellowed from outside.

"On my way!" Hazel made sure his phone was in his jacket pocket before following Hathaway out the door.

* * *

Gloucester Green Coach Station was quite busy, mostly with tourists and students. One by one, the coaches going to various destinations departed only to be replaced by ones that were arriving with people piling out. The dark blonde student dragged her suitcase behind her, a heavy looking rucksack on her shoulders. She was wearing grey loose slacks and a white T-shirt. Her hair was untied with a pair of shades perched on the top of her head. She made her way slowly to a particular stop to wait. It was already busy, the conversations both in English and different languages ringing in her ears. The girl carefully unslung her rucksack placing it between her feet and she opened up one of the front compartments taking out a folded white piece of paper. She checked the details on it before folding it back up and putting it away. The coach pulled up slowly and she joined the queue, slinging her rucksack back on her shoulders. She placed her contactless card on the reader collecting her ticket and placed her suitcase into the luggage compartment inside. As she took her window seat, she unslung her rucksack again and smiled at a middle-aged couple who took the two seats opposite her. She placed her book and a bottle of water on the table and placed the rucksack on the seat next to her. The female of the couple noticed the title of the book and smiled.

"How are your studies going?" she asked kindly. The girl looked up at her but smiled her response. The female looked at her husband, and despite not taking offence, decided not to pry any further. The girl stared out of the window as the coach pulled out, the familiar George Street disappearing far behind as it turned left and gradually out of the city.

* * *

Doctor Aurora was deep in conference with one of her pathologists when Hathaway and Hazel walked in. They both waited patiently for her to finish although Hazel was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. He gently massaged the side of his neck. Hathaway glanced at him. The movements of Aurora got his attention and he watched as she picked up a clipboard.

"Good morning, gentlemen," she greeted. She noticed Hazel shuffling on the spot but said nothing. "I managed to get a hold of your victim's dental records." She handed the clipboard over to Hathaway. "You have a female in her early twenties. Her ID is within those papers. I'll leave the next of kin notification to you." Hathaway looked up from the clipboard. "The cause of death I am still trying to decipher." Aurora walked around the empty slab. "She was devoured pretty badly." She paused to look at Hazel, who was still in some discomfort. "Ants in your pants, Hazel?" Hathaway, holding the clipboard at his side, looked to the floor in amusement. Hazel looked at the pathologist.

"Sorry, doctor," he said realising how rude and unhelpful he must have looked. Aurora caught Hathaway's amused look.

"I'll see what I can find out anything more, detectives," she said.

"Thanks, Doctor Aurora." Hathaway turned to leave. Hazel began to follow him but was called back. He turned as Aurora approached him.

"You came back too soon," she told him gently.

"I will be okay," Hazel replied trying to reassure himself more than her. Aurora, despite her height, noticed the obvious wound on the young sergeant's neck.

"Go easy," she said. "Hathaway can be determined but also stubborn. Did you see the station medic?"

"Yes; and he passed me." He couldn't look Aurora directly in the eye. Aurora nodded. "I needed to come back," he suddenly said. "I have an Inspector assessment pending. I need to at least solve one case…"

"But not at the expense of your wellbeing, Stephen." Aurora's voice was soft but firm. She was concerned about Hazel, like he was a younger relative. Hazel looked at the floor, knowing she was right. He then became aware of his phone ringing and looked to see who it was.

"Yes, sir," he answered upon hearing Hathaway's voice. He sighed heavily as the call ended. "Thank you, Doctor Aurora," he said to her politely forcing himself to smile. He walked out of pathology and down the corridor.

Hathaway decided he wasn't going to head back to the station when Hazel finally came out to meet him. He was sick of the place and wanted a fresh approach with a different atmosphere. He took a look at the clipboard with the details of the victim.

"Sorry about that, sir," Hazel said to him apologetically.

"That's fine," Hathaway replied. He took off his shades to read the papers properly. Hazel noticed the look on his face.

"Everything all right, sir?"

"Yeah. Actually…" He balanced the clipboard on his knee to release the top paper. "Before you call, look at this name. Do a bit of research. I have seen this name before but can't quite put my finger on it."

"Sure thing." Hazel was grateful he wasn't going to accompany Hathaway on a potential wild goose chase. "What will you be doing?"

"I have an idea I want to pursue," he replied as Hazel took the paper from him. "Tell Bright if she asks."

"I don't think this will surprise her one bit, sir," Hazel said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Hathaway took one look at Hazel and grinned before leaving. Hazel watched as his superior walked away and sighed heavily. A sharp pain hit his neck suddenly and he hissed in pain, covering his wound with the palm of his hand. As he slowly walked away, Aurora was standing on the steps of the building, her eyes following the young sergeant as he walked past towards his car. She shook her head slowly in disapproval but also with concern as she took a deep breath of fresh air before scanning her ID card on the reader, the buzz and the sound of the door coming off the latch letting her back in.

* * *

The slamming of a couple of doors along a corridor and the voices of the young were heard breaking the silence that enveloped the landing only a short moment before. Three or four students congregated near the top of the stairs, chatting and laughing. One of them broke away to use the bathroom.

"Hey! Where's Serena?" one of them asked. "I haven't seen her since yesterday."

"I'll go," her friend said in mock weariness. He walked over to a closed door and started knocking. "Yo, Serena!" he hollered at the top of his voice to giggles from his housemates. "Open up!" He knocked again. He was tall with brown hair and blue eyes. He was wearing jeans, trainers and a striped polo shirt. His housemate who enquired in the first instance, a female with long, crimped 80s style bubblegum coloured hair and dressed in blue denim dungarees and a white T-shirt, walked over and tried herself.

"Serena?" Her voice was less evasive than her friend's. "It's Clarissa. If you're in there, open the door." She paused before speaking again. "We're all going punting on the Cherwell…"

"ISIS!" her friends corrected her using the Oxford nickname for the Thames. Their voices rose in unison before laughter took over.

"The Cherwell!" Clarissa corrected with amusement. But, she gave her male friend a look of concern at the lack of response.

"Guys, she's cleaned the kitchen!" The two students leaned over the banister to look down at another of their housemates who was standing at the foot of the stairs.

"Who? Serena?" Clarissa asked.

"Yeah!" The bunch of friends all looked at each other, the laughter and mirth subsiding and they all ran down the stairs and followed their friend into the kitchen. Clarissa walked further inside and saw all the signs. She turned to look at her male friend and his face grew with worry.

"Guys, we'll meet you by the Magdalen in about an hour," she told them making her way out. "If you can't get hold of me, then call Brian." Her male friend nodded and followed her out the door. There was a table near the front door, with three jars on top next to each other, each one filled with colour.

* * *

Stephen Hazel stared blankly at his computer screen like a writer with writer's block. He just couldn't do anything. He knew what to do, he had the name, the search engine was up, but not matter how hard he tried there was no focus, no enthusiasm. He knew he still wasn't well, but with Gemma in a far worse state, Hazel counted himself lucky. But, even that did not help him. Hazel hung his head only to hiss again in pain. He couldn't let Hathaway down again, no way! He entrusted him to assist him on this case which will also help his Inspector's assessment. He was aware that Hathaway had words with Bright about him taking up a case, especially when the last one backfired so spectacularly; and although it wasn't his fault, Hazel could not help but kick himself constantly for not speaking up when he knew what to say, what to do. The young sergeant looked over at Gemma's empty desk and began to think about her. He wondered whether it would be a good idea to go down to London to see her once this case was solved. Her mother gave him her number to call and told him he would be welcome anytime. Hazel then remembered how much he reminded her of someone and he couldn't help but wonder whether it was the person Gemma mentioned. A soft rap on the window got his attention and he sat up straight as Bright walked in. She gave Hazel a look of concern and pulled up a rogue chair and settled it opposite him on the other side of his desk. She sat down and wondered what he was up to. Hazel told her and she nodded.

"Stephen… You are in no fit state to work…"

"Ma'am, I will be okay…"

"You and I both know that isn't the case." Hazel sighed heavily and his eyes dropped to the floor. "The doctor did not pass you with a clean bill of health, Stephen. I only signed it because I know you are fed up of seeing the four walls of your bedroom." Hazel's eyes rose to look at her. He saw the kind look on Bright's face, but knew he had to carry on.

"Ma'am, I will be fine. Thank you for your concern."

"All right, but what I said to you this morning stands, okay?" She smiled and Hazel nodded. Bright stood up and placed the chair back where she found it. She noticed the plastic bag with the red dress by Hathaway's desk but didn't dwell on it. She looked once more at Hazel before leaving.

Hazel decided to get a move on and typed the name on the piece of paper into the search engine. To his dismay, more than one result came up. Hazel grabbed his pad of paper and a pen and began to jot down some of the results.

* * *

The waves of the river splashed onto the banks as the punters gradually made their way along the water in both directions. You could hear the tour guides tell stories of the city, introducing the colleges along the way and the history behind them. You also had private punters, albeit drunk, trying to weave their way past the others rather hysterically with the majority falling in to laughter and applause by the others.

Caroline stared at the Bridge of Sighs from her position on the next bridge and noticed people walking along the corridors inside. She remembered her time when she used to do that, when her first room as a fresher was adjacent to it. She didn't mean not to reply to Hathaway, but she just wanted to be alone. She fiddled with her engagement ring and bracelet and looked to the sky as if she was asking her mother for help, for guidance. A nudge on the arm forced her to look and she nearly cried when she saw the person next to her. Comforting arms came around her and she held the person tightly, trying her best not to cry. She felt a hand stroke her hair and as she looked at her comforter, her hair was cleared from her face and a soft pair of lips caressed her forehead, the feeling making Caroline close her eyes. A strong, but protective arm came across her shoulders and they walked off together across the bridge and down a path, passing the banks where people had gathered to take a break and watch the punters go by.

* * *

Hathaway walked back into the station and towards his office, his strides brisk but easy going. He passed Bright's office and expected her to call him, but to his pleasure, he heard nothing. He continued on his journey, his opened office door in sight. He was going to make it… He knew he was going to make it. But, just as he stepped one foot in the doorway…

"James, a word please!" Hathaway closed his eyes having come so near and faked a smile as he turned.

"Ma'am," he greeted pleasantly as he saw the familiar figure of Bright standing in front of him.

"Take your shades off, James. You are not auditioning for the next James Bond. You may share the same Christian name, but that's as far as it goes."

"Ma'am." Hathaway did as was told. Bright walked ahead of him into his office and Hathaway followed. He was a bit surprised to find Hazel not at his desk.

"I've sent him home," she replied before Hathaway had a chance to ask. "He wasn't feeling too well. Don't worry, he will be back tomorrow." She leaned over to pick up the pad of paper. "He did what you asked him to before he left." Hathaway took the pad from her and walked to his desk. The pad made a hollow thud as it hit the surface. His path was blocked by the plastic bag and he picked it up and chucked it on the other side of his chair before sitting down.

"What do I owe the pleasure, ma'am?" Hathaway eventually asked trying not to sound irritated. Bright walked over and stood by a filing cabinet nearby. She watched Hathaway closely like a hawk and didn't like his attitude.

"This case you are on, what can you tell me about it so far?"

"Ma'am?" Hathaway sighed in annoyance. He wished for once she wouldn't interfere.

"I am asking you a direct question, Detective Inspector Hathaway. I would appreciate an answer." Bright did not raise her voice, but her tone spoke volumes. Hathaway, his right leg crossed across his left, bent at the knee looked directly at her. He sighed again, closing his eyes briefly, and he sat up straight.

"Aurora got hold of her dental records," he began. "The body is completely decomposed I doubt she will be able to find out much else." He leaned forwards to hand over the paper Aurora gave him. Bright took it and read it quietly to herself.

"Have the next of kin been informed?"

"Not yet, ma'am. The reason being is that I recognise the name, but I want to be sure before I get Hazel to call."

"One of your past cases, you think?" Bright handed the paper back over.

"I'm not sure, ma'am. That is why I want to be sure." Hathaway threw the paper to the side. "I asked Hazel to research for me."

"I see." Bright noticed the bag. Hathaway took note and glanced at it. "How is Caroline, James?"

"She's fine," Hathaway replied not giving anything away. Bright nodded knowing him all too well. She leaned off the cabinet and walked past him.

"Don't leave it too long, James," she said.

"Yes, ma'am." Hathaway watched as Bright left and leaned back in his chair, his head raised to look at the ceiling. But as he stared, his thoughts went awry and he leaned forward to thump his fist on the desk. He looked again at the red dress and took out his phone from his suit jacket pocket. "Caroline, it's me. Please call when you can." He chucked his phone on top of the pad of paper and looked at the empty office. Just like his personal life, his working life was beginning to cast him as a loner.

* * *

The moon rose over Oxford lighting up the dark sky. The city centre was still quite busy with locals breezing in and out of the bars and restaurants. A drunken couple, obviously meeting at the mentioned establishments, staggered through the streets laughing and howling at the top of their voices. They turned a corner into a park and straight away, the male pushed the woman up against a tree. He began kissing her, quite badly, but they were both in a state not to care. The woman began to lift the shirt up from her companion and likewise he her dress. He suddenly turned her round so her back was to him and he reached to pull down her lower undergarment. Before he could even get started, the woman's eyes widened, what she witnessed a complete and utter sobering moment and she began to scream. The male looked in the direction she was pointing at and he shakily reached for his phone.

* * *

Hathaway was lying in bed on his front sleeping. His blond hair was a mess and his mouth was slightly open. It wasn't a pleasant sight, but he had grown so accustomed to sleeping on his own now, he began to make the most of it. He was sprawled diagonally across the bed, his left leg on top of the duvet, his boxers in full view as was his naked back. He was in the middle of a deep sleep, so much so that he didn't hear his mobile phone go off. The ringtone stopped and the silence was crudely interrupted by the ringing of the house phone, the display of the cordless on the side table coming to life. Hathaway snorted suddenly, his breath catching which sent him into a short coughing fit. He turned his head wondering where the noise was coming from and realising it was from the cordless phone, picked up the handset.

"Hathaway…" he answered groggily. He reached over and fumbled for the lampshade switch and he nearly groaned as the bright light shone into his half-opened eyes. "Yeah, yeah, okay. Where?" Once he was told and the line went dead, Hathaway fumbled to place the phone back on its charging cradle. He looked at the time on his phone's display and groaned. He forced himself out of bed taking the covers with him and he dragged his feet to the door, grabbing a pair of jeans and a jumper nearby.

* * *

Aurora didn't like what she was seeing and the photographer likewise. Not far away, the SOCO team were being busy finding evidence, the tall spotlights erected not far away aiding them. A couple of painted cars were parked by the roadside, the police cordon protecting the area. Hathaway's car slowly drove by. He parked next to one of the painted cars and got out, walking towards the scene, acknowledging the uniformed officers before lifting the blue and white tape above his head so he could walk through. Aurora meanwhile was jotting down notes on her clipboard, her head tilted to the side in contemplation.

"James," she said. Hathaway found it to be strange but equally fascinating how she could recognise him without looking.

"Doctor Aurora." He looked at the body and grimaced slightly. The stiff was partly clothed, the long hair obviously indicating she was female. Blood matted her back, arms and legs and there seemed to be signs of a beating judging by the bruising which were just making themselves visible. Her head was turned to the side, her eyes open. Hathaway watched as Aurora crouched down and cleared the hair away from the victim's face. She leaned over to take a look and gently closed the girl's eyes as a mark of respect.

"She was beaten… quite badly. The pupils of her eyes are blown. She was probably struck on the back of her head." Aurora stood up and she looked at Hathaway, eyeing him up and down.

"I hope you approve," he said a little arrogantly.

"I'm not Bright," Aurora replied. "You were called out of bed presumably."

"Yep." Hathaway walked over to the victim's feet and crouched down. He noticed some matter between her toes and called over one of the SOCO team. "Drowning?" he asked Aurora noticing the clothing the victim was wearing was slightly damp.

"I won't know until I do my bit," she replied. Hathaway walked over and stood beside her.

"You can't blame this on thrashing surely!"

"Don't be so facetious, James!" Aurora's tone made Hathaway grin. "I don't think this has any link to the first find. I think she was beaten, obviously, with other pursuits in mind."

"Sex game gone wrong?" Aurora rolled her eyes. She looked up at Hathaway not amused one bit.

"And how is your Caroline, James?" she asked. Before Hathaway had time to answer, a call from one of the SOCO team got their attention and they walked over towards him.

"I found this," he said holding up a heavy-duty evidence bag. Hathaway took it from him and held it up to the spotlight. It was a glass jar with what looked like coloured paint stained inside. He looked at Aurora and gave it back to the SOCO thanking him.

"If it is thrashing," Aurora said as they walked to the top of the bank. "Then you will need to sort this out with the university and quickly."

"I intend to. I don't want resources wasted on student antics." Aurora looked at Hathaway slightly impressed.

"Wait for my report. I will confirm it for you." Hathaway nodded and left the scene. As he got into his car, he felt his phone vibrate and he took his phone out. The message from Caroline sent him into the stratosphere and he quickly called her back, but again got her voicemail. Hathaway decided against leaving a message, fed up with the lack of replies. He felt like he was wasting his time, but each day made him grow more sick with worry. He knew Caroline like the back of his hand, but what she confessed to him that day in his father's back garden just added to the worry. Hathaway strapped himself in and turned the key in the ignition and shoved the gear into first before driving away.

* * *

The next morning, Bright gathered her teams around the evidence board in the incident room. She began the briefing getting updates from each and pointing out what needed to be done, places to go and things to investigate according to the different cases each team had. Hathaway, standing nearby against a wall, had a feeling that the two murders discovered recently were not isolated and that there would be perhaps more to come. He hoped secretly not though.

Hazel walked in looking slightly better. He decided to dress down slightly but made a point to hide the wound in his neck. Not that he needed to hide it from anyone, but there was still a sense of hidden pride, something he hated as he inherited that from his mother. He walked in virtually unnoticed and stood at the back of the room listening. He glanced at Hathaway as Bright continued with the briefing, giving further instructions to the various teams. Once she dismissed them, she nodded once at Hazel before leaving. The young sergeant ventured forward. Hathaway was looking at the board. Hazel decided to stop a few feet away.

"Feeling better, Hazel?"

"Yes, sir. Much better."

"Good." Hathaway turned. "There was another body found last night." He stepped aside so Hazel could take a closer look. He stood in front of the board analysing all the evidence so far.

"Another thrashing incident?" He looked at Hathaway who didn't answer, rather letting him decide. Hazel knew he was giving him another chance and went back to the board. He looked at all the pictures carefully, the jar evidence catching his attentions more. He stepped back to make one more overview and looked at Hathaway. "All evidence points to thrashing," he said. "But everyone knows it is more or less over now." He paused. "This may have been planted by the body to make us  _think_ it was thrashing."

"Is there anything that proves it wasn't?"

"Not sure, sir," Hazel replied. "We need to get the report back from Aurora before thinking otherwise. We also need to get the SOCO evidence report on what they found."

"Good." Hathaway was satisfied with the analysis. "I may have come across as being too harsh on you, Hazel." He looked at him. "I know it was too soon for me to expect you back, and I apologise if you felt pushed into a corner."

"Thank you, sir." Hazel knew this took a lot from Hathaway to say this to him. Maybe Bright had a word?

"Sir?" A young buck of a detective poked his head around the door.

"Mitch?" Hathaway looked at him.

"Pathology called. They want you both there sharpish."

"Cheers." As the detective left, Hazel took one more look at the board. Thoughts were going through his head as he followed Hathaway out.

* * *

Aurora once more looked up from her clipboard as both detectives walked inside. She didn't look very happy as she placed the clipboard on top of a ledge and walked towards them. Hazel didn't like the feeling this was giving him. He knew something was wrong. Hathaway looked straight at Aurora as she stood in front of him. Both detectives waited for her to speak.

"Your second victim was indeed drowned, but that wasn't the cause of death. As I thought she was battered across the back of her head. She was also subject to an assault just after." She paused. "Not sexual."

"Random?"

"No. Whoever did this knew what they were doing." She walked over to where she left the clipboard, picking it up and bringing it over. Hathaway glanced at Aurora as he read the report in front of him and passed the board over to Hazel, as always expressionless. The young detective read the first few lines to himself quietly and his facial expression spoke volumes. Aurora walked back over to the empty slab. "This will not be easy for her parents to accept, detectives," she told them. "I doubt they even know."

Hathaway looked at Aurora again. "What about the first victim?" he asked.

"That is different." She paused. "She had been dead for about a week, hence her being food for the animals. She was in good health from what her bones told me. Her teeth indicates she was a casual smoker, but nothing too major."

"A week?" Hazel looked up from the clipboard. "That means it was not thrashing."

"Doesn't look like it. I am releasing her remains as soon as her next of kin are notified."

* * *

Hazel walked out of pathology still with a million and one thoughts in his head. Hathaway followed him not long after and stopped on the top step to light up a cigarette. As he stood rather casually blowing out smoke after taking a drag, he observed Hazel as he stood by the car reading the report once again. He noticed the concentration on his face as he took in and absorbed each word. Hathaway took one final drag and stubbed out the rest of the cigarette, placing the remains into the compartment on the wall behind him. He blew out the last bits of smoke as he walked slowly down the steps.

"How can I break this to her parents, sir?" Hazel asked at a complete loss as Hathaway stood not far away in front of him. Hathaway again watched his young sergeant and shared his concern. Hazel gave the paper to him and turned his back, his head bowed. Hathaway read the report again and folded it up, placing it inside his pocket. Hazel walked round the back the car to the driver's side and opened the door getting inside. Hathaway said nothing as he got into the passenger's side. He closed the door and looked at Hazel.

"These things are never easy," he explained. "No matter how long you have been at this job for, these things are one of worst things we do." He suddenly stopped as he realised he sounded like Lewis. Hazel sighed and strapped himself in, turning the key in the ignition.

"Does it get easier, sir?" he asked innocently. But, Hathaway didn't reply. Hazel took that as a definitive answer as he pushed the handbrake down and slowly reversed, shoving the gear into first and slowly drove down the forecourt.

* * *

Clarissa stood with her back to the Magdalen Bridge and watched the traffic go by along the main road. The Botanical Gardens was directly opposite her. She was worried. Worried and frantic. This wasn't like her housemate. She knew she had her quirks, which the others treated her like she was strange and weird, but not Clarissa. They befriended each other during Fresher's Week when everyone crowded into the Student Union to queue for their cards and to find out more about the societies the university had to offer. Serena had trouble applying for her card and Clarissa, standing behind her in the queue, stepped in to help her out. They were both studying different subjects but made a plan to share a house during their second year. Clarissa also brought her own friends she made on her degree course and there started everything. Serena retreated and only spoke to Clarissa. Even when Brian moved in, she only spoke to him to wish him a good morning, afternoon or evening if it stretched that far. Brian, one of the university's top rugby players, empathised with her but also grew to find her irritating and weird. It wasn't the best of times for both girls, but Clarissa made sure she and Serena had their own time together as she knew Serena wanted to tell her everything.

Clarissa leaned off the bridge as she saw Brian walk out of the Gardens with a shake of the head. Clarissa's face fell and watched as Brian carefully crossed the road. She met up with him and he looked down at her.

"We have to find her, Bri," she said to him. "This is not like her."

"We will," Brian told her. "Come on. Let's meet up with the guys and see if we can think of other places she may have gone." He held her close and Clarissa nodded. Together, they walked across the bridge and down the path towards the river.

* * *

James Hathaway shut the door of his own vehicle and locked it. He was off duty and decided to pursue an extra-curricular activity. He had the plastic bag with the red dress in his hand. He made sure both sides of the road were clear before crossing. He walked inside a black painted iron gate and down the huge gravel driveway towards what was a grand looking establishment, which from the outside looked like a millionaire's mansion not dissimilar to those along The Bishop's Avenue in London. Hathaway reached a huge white door with two pillars on either side. There was a black brass door knocker and a buzzer on the wall. Hathaway decided on the latter and pressed it. A short wait followed. Hathaway introduced himself once asked and the latch on the door opened. He pushed the door and stepped inside closing it behind him.

* * *

 

Nell Hathaway watched Stephen Hazel as he was still deep in thought. They were sitting outside in her father's back garden. The evening was warm and perfect for socialising. Two plates of a finished meal were in front of them as well as two glasses and a bottle of red was in the middle between them. Nell, knowing the look on Hazel's face all too well, smiled but out of concern and refilled his glass. She placed the bottle carefully back down and reached over to hold his hand. Stephen looked at her upon feeling her touch and smiled.

"What's the matter?" she asked softly.

"Nothing," Hazel replied. He decided to think happy thoughts and took a sip of his wine. "Thank you for dinner," he said. "I didn't realise you were such a good cook."

Nell laughed softly. "Why, thank you." Hazel laughed a little and looked at her. He noticed the way she was looking at him and blushed, which Nell found adorable about him. Hazel looked at the garden around him. It offered him such tranquillity; a world away from it all. He felt Nell squeeze his hand a little tighter and once again looked at her. He lifted her hand up to kiss the palm before standing up to lean over to kiss her. Nell opened her eyes after savouring the kiss and gazed into Hazel's brown eyes. She smiled and kissed him again. Hazel gently touched her face as his lips met hers and he gently caressed her cheek with the side of his thumb. They both sat down and he took another sip of his wine. As Nell cleared the plates away and brought them back inside, Hazel found himself and his thoughts wandering… Wandering in the direction of London and a certain detective constable. He wondered how she was doing and if her recovery was going well. He then thought about their moment at the hospital and back at the station before everything happened when she rejected him and a feeling of guilt hit him hard. He looked up and watched as Nell got dessert ready and smiled as she came back outside. He stood up to give her a hand bringing the cake over to the table and offered to serve it. He liked Nell a lot, ever since they first met, but no matter what he still couldn't get Gemma out of his mind. But, who was this Martin? Nell once again noticed the look on Hazel's face and gently called his name. Hazel blinked and came back down again. He smiled at Nell and broke off a piece of the strawberry gateau with his fork. The sweetness of the cake made his face lit up and Nell grinned happy her experiment worked.

"I made it today," she told him. "I found an old recipe book from one of the cooks in the place where I grew up."

"This is amazing!" Hazel exclaimed, his mouth full.

"I'm glad you like it," Nell said with a smile. Hazel nodded enthusiastically and sliced himself another. "Do you have somewhere to go tonight?" she asked. Hazel stopped eating and looked at her. He shook his head with a smile and Nell nodded. "As long as James doesn't find out."

"I won't if you won't." They burst out laughing and Nell took up her glass of wine to take a sip. Hazel looked at her and realised how pretty she was in the sunlight. He ate some more of his cake, not realising he was gazing at her.

* * *

The next morning, Hathaway was at his desk making notes. It was a very warm day across the city and his office window was wide open. Hathaway typed a few more things and the results that came up surprised him somewhat. He quickly scribbled down some more notes and tore the paper from its bind, stuffing it into his pocket. He looked up as Hazel walked in. He watched as he took off his jacket flinging it on his desk before sitting down. It didn't take him two seconds to figure out he was nervous. Hathaway opened up his desk drawer and took out what looked like a notebook. He walked over the short distance to drop it in front of Hazel. The young detective looked up at Hathaway before picking it up.

"Sir?" he enquired.

"Just read it." Hathaway sat back down at his desk and watched as Hazel opened up the first page. He read the words quietly without any reaction before placing it back down on his desk face down. He looked up at Hathaway not knowing what to think.

"Are you sure?" he asked him.

"Positive." This didn't help Hazel's poor nerves. He took a deep breath before dragging the handset nearer him and picked up the receiver. As he spoke to the person on the other end, Hathaway looked back at his monitor pleased that it at least helped a little. An email alert got his attention and he sat up straight as he stared at it, the subject title concerning him more than anything. He picked up his mobile phone.

Hazel placed the receiver back down on the cradle and bowed his head in relief. He looked up about to call Hathaway's name only to see he was deep in hushed conversation. He picked up the book and resumed reading. It was a book of handwritten notes he assumed were by Hathaway detailing various things he learned since becoming a detective. His old boss's name was mentioned as well as the old super. He wondered how much Robert Lewis meant to him. By what was written it was a hell of a lot! Hazel placed the book back down as he heard Hathaway finishing his call and looking at him.

"They will come down tomorrow," he told him of the second victim's parents. "They will start the long drive down tonight."

"Keep it, Hazel," Hathaway said of the notebook before he had a chance to ask. "Will you be okay to talk to them tomorrow?" Hazel nodded. Hathaway stood up.

"I'm off for a couple of hours," he told him. "In case Bright asks, tell her it is to do with the first body."

"Really, sir?" Hazel didn't believe a word he said. Hathaway looked straight at him.

"Just… do as I say." He winked before leaving. Hazel smiled in amusement as Hathaway left. He picked up his mobile phone and saw a text message waiting for him. He looked at it and saw it was from Nell, thanking him for last night. Hazel sent a reply back, a rather hurried one, and hit 'send'. He then left his phone on his desk and left. Not even 10 seconds later a reply came through from a different number with the message saying:

**Who is Nell?**

* * *

Clarissa hurried down the stairs of her student house and walked into the living room. She had her mobile phone in her right hand and was dressed in jogging bottoms and a grey oversized T-shirt. She sat down on the sofa, chucking some old newspaper on the floor, and turned on the television via the remote control. She rolled her eyes as one of the sports channels showed a rugby match and knew Brian was to blame. She quickly changed to one of the music channels and decided to look at her phone, but to her dismay found no messages from Serena. She put the phone in her pocket and quickly grew bored of the music playing. She settled on a trash talk show and laughed suddenly at the state of the guests on the stage. As she watched in amusement, her phone buzzed and her ringtone went off. Clarissa hurriedly fished out her phone and a huge relieved look on her face appeared as she answered.

"Serena! Honey, where are you? I've been worried sick!" She listened carefully. "You're where?!" She sat up straight. "But… Serena, why didn't you…? Serena?" Clarissa looked at her home screen of her and Brian after a rugby match and sighed. "Why do you do this, Serena?" she asked out loud with concern. She quickly hit a number and stood up walking to the window. "Bri, it's me. I've heard from Serena. Look, I think we should go to the police. She is in trouble. I'll meet you outside the entrance to the Covered Market. Sure thing." She placed the phone back in her pocket as the call finished and stared out of the window. She knew Brian wasn't overly keen on going to the police, but knew it had to be done. She knew her friend well enough. She walked back through the living room, pausing to turn off the TV via the remote, and left running up the stairs to her and Brian's bedroom.

* * *

Hathaway parked his car on the side of a road of what looked like the middle of nowhere and got out. He took off his suit jacket flinging it inside and reached over to open the glove compartment. He took out what looked like a wallet or pouch and closed it shut. He then slammed the door of the car, locking it with the remote before walking down, putting on his shades as he did so. He took a small pathway and came to a halt as he saw a figure walking towards him. The exchange was brief and final and as Hathaway walked back to his car, he took a look over his shoulder only to find the road empty. He quickly unlocked the car and got in slamming the door. He reached into the plastic bag and took out Caroline's red dress. He delved into the bag and found the envelope he was expecting. He chucked the dress and the bag on the back seat behind him and tore open the envelope taking out the single white A4 sheet inside. As he unfolded it and read what was on it, a look of pain came across his features as if he half expected this. He folded the paper back and placed it into the glove compartment. He then started the car, quickly glancing at the rear view and side mirrors before driving off, leaving a trail of dust in its wake.

* * *

Stephen Hazel walked back down the corridor all laughs as he told one of his detective colleagues he will take them up on whatever they had planned later on that month. He walked back into his office and sat down, logging back into his computer. He picked up his phone only to panic when he read the message. He scrolled down his sent messages folder and groaned when he realised his error. He quickly called the person only for someone different to answer. He quickly hung up in embarrassment and gently hit his head on his desk a few times. Hathaway walked in and viewed Hazel's actions a bit strangely. He walked over to his desk sitting down. Hazel sat back up and groaned, burying his face in his hands. Hathaway shook his head slowly, a look of amusement coming across his face.

"Mobile phones are more trouble than they're worth, sir," Hazel moaned.

"In what way?" Hathaway asked. "Let me guess – you sent the wrong message to the wrong person?" Hazel took his hands away from his face completely shocked.

"How did you…?"

"We've all been there," Hathaway replied trying not to laugh. He picked up the phone as the internal call alert came through. "Hathaway." He listened as a colleague spoke to him. "How many of them? Okay, put them in an interview room." He stood up and grabbed his phone. "Come on," he said to Hazel. "We have visitors."

"Sir." Hazel logged out of his computer and followed Hathaway out.

* * *

Clarissa and Brian were sitting on one side of the table in an interview room. They had a plastic cup of water each in front of them untouched. She was nervous and he wasn't all that bothered. He was just there for her, no more no less. The door opened and Hazel walked in. He introduced himself before sitting down opposite them, a pad of paper in front of him. In the adjacent room, Hathaway stood by the mirror looking in. This was Hazel's chance now to shine and he will only intervene if he needed to. Bright walked in after knocking. She stood beside Hathaway and looked in.

"How do you think he will do?"

"Let's wait and see, ma'am." They watched as Hazel took out his pen ready to make notes.

Clarissa looked at Hazel and glanced at the pad of paper. Hazel picked up on it straight away and asked her name. Clarissa replied and introduced Brian. Hazel took note of his appearance – and his attitude.

"So, what is it we can do for you, miss?" Hazel asked.

"It's our friend… Well, my friend. Her name is Serena." She watched as Hazel jotted down her name. "She lives with us. We're all students."

"What are you all studying?" Hazel asked.

"I'm studying Linguistics," Clarissa replied. "Muggins here is studying Economics." Hazel tried not to laugh as he jotted it down.

Behind the mirror, both Hathaway and Bright were also amused by the young girl's response.

"I bet you get called that often," Bright remarked.

"All the time, ma'am." Hathaway looked at Bright with a glint in his eye.

"What is Serena studying?" Hazel asked looking at both students in front of him. Brian suddenly scoffed and Clarissa kicked him.

"Ignore him, detective," she told him. "She is studying Psychology…"

"Figures," Brian remarked albeit on the sarcastic side. Clarissa glared at him.

"Look, if you don't want to be here…"

"It's okay, miss." Hazel said in a calm manner. Clarissa backed off and looked at him. "How does it figure, sir?" Hazel noticed what he was wearing and the badge on his chest.

"The girl is a nutter!" Brian replied suddenly. "She got something missing up here!" He prodded the side of his head. Hazel found his blood boiling.

"Serena has a learning difficulty," Clarissa explained calmly. "But, she is one of the cleverest people I have ever met. She also has an OCD which is triggered only when something is wrong. For her to suddenly up sticks and leave right before her end of year exams is out of character for her."

"Good riddance if you ask me…"

"I did not ask you, Brian!" Clarissa raised her voice. Hazel, now really annoyed, enquired as to why.

In the viewing area, Hathaway knew Hazel was going to let his feelings get in the way again and rushed out. He walked in just as Hazel was about to stand up to confront Brian and quickly diffused things. He whispered in Hazel's ear to go and the youngster had no choice but to obey. As the door closed, Hathaway sat down. He introduced himself and took a look at the notes Hazel wrote. He couldn't help but be surprised at one piece of information.

"Where is Serena now?" he asked.

"She is in trouble, Inspector," Clarissa replied. "This is so out of character for her."

"Is she still in Oxford?" Clarissa hesitated. Hathaway knew it was because Brian was there. "Sir." The student looked in his direction. "If you don't mind, can I have a word with your girlfriend in private?"

"Sure!" Brian threw his arms up in the air, completely fed up. Clarissa could not help but give him a dirty look as he left.

"I am so sorry about him, Inspector."

"Not to worry." Hathaway set the pad aside. "Do you have information about Serena?" Hathaway took Clarissa's phone from her and looked at Serena's last call received. "Clarissa, I'm afraid this is out of our jurisdiction…"

"You don't understand!" Clarissa's voice was a desperate whisper. "She is in trouble. She ran away. I know she knows."

"Knows what?" Hathaway glanced at the mirror to his left.

"About who murdered Grace."

"Grace?" Now Hathaway was all ears. Bright meanwhile left the viewing room.

"Yeah… Grace Staveley. She was one of our friends." Hathaway sat back in his chair.  _That name!_ He passed over the pad of paper, making sure he ripped out Hazel's notes. He took a pen from his suit jacket pocket and gave it to her.

"Everything you know," he told her gently so not to frighten her further. Clarissa nodded and began to write. Hathaway watched as she did and knew things were taking a turn for the worst.

* * *

Hazel stormed into his office and chucked his phone on his desk. He was fuming with rage. Bright followed now long after and slammed the door behind her. She ordered Hazel to get his act together and to take long, deep breaths. Hazel angrily kicked the filing cabinet before calming down. He turned and saw the look on Bright's face. He wiped a tear angrily away with the back of his hand and sat down at his desk. Bright stood beside him, her body language one of understanding and empathy.

"Some people just do not understand," she told him. Hazel shook his head in agreement. "You can't let your feelings get in the way, Stephen. You have to try and bite your tongue. Luckily, James was there to save you."

"I know, ma'am." Hazel picked up his phone and scrolled down his photo gallery. "She's 18." He showed her a picture of Lori on her last birthday. "If he could only see what a bright girl she is and what a joy to be around."

"I'm sure she is," Bright said with a smile. "That is one huge cake!"

Hazel laughed as he put his phone away. "I arranged it. She loves unicorns." Hathaway walked in and Hazel sat up straight. Bright walked over to the blond detective as she left.

"He'll be all right. Just don't have a go at him too much." She walked past him out of the door. Hathaway looked at Hazel who was feigning being busy and said nothing as he dropped the pad of paper in front of him.

"Grace Staveley," he told him. "Look through the archives. You will find her details there."

"Past form, sir?" Hazel was grateful Hathaway didn't comment on his actions. Hathaway didn't reply as he sat down at his desk. He wasn't surprised at Hazel's reaction once he found out. "How long?"

"Three years."

Hazel said nothing. He just lapsed into silence. He took note of Hathaway, who was looking at some case notes and realised a few things, a few morals. In complete contrast to how he was previously, he brought his desk telephone towards him and picked up the receiver dialling a number.

"Hello, yes. Good afternoon. Can I speak to either Mr or Mrs Staveley, please? My name is Detective Sergeant Stephen Hazel. I am calling from City Police here in Oxford…" As he continued to speak, Hathaway looked up from his paperwork and studied his young protégé carefully. He knew he still had a lot to learn. His eyes strayed to his in-tray, Hazel's file for assessment in plain sight. Hathaway did nothing however and got back to what he was doing.

* * *

Clarissa walked down a side street on to Radcliffe Square. She was in tears. Brian didn't bother to wait for her after what she thought was an ordeal at the police station and that angered and upset her. She walked angrily over the cobbles past the garden café and around the Radcliffe Camera towards the Bodleian. She dodged some tourists hanging about outside and stopped suddenly. The Bridge of Sighs stared at her in all its glory, tourists having their photos taken in front of it. Clarissa stared at the landmark, its past speaking to her in hushed whispers. She turned her head and saw the closed gates of the Sheldonian grounds. Clarissa suddenly didn't feel well and knew she had to take shelter somewhere. She began to run the short distance and turned on to Broad Street, which was just as busy if not busier. The young student saw a pub and ran towards it, taking care not to fall as she ran down the few steps inside, the dark ambience of the place offering her that shelter she needed.

* * *

Hazel and Hathaway stood in front of what looked like a worn brown wooden door. Around them, weeds and badly tended greenery surrounded them. The window pane looking into the living room was worn and the paint split. It wasn't very welcoming at all. Hazel looked again at Hathaway before knocking again on the door. This was his third attempt and they both began to wonder whether the information Hazel had was correct. Just as they were about to head down the path, they heard the sound of a chain unlock. A rather frail, but sweet looking old lady with a very old-fashioned dress on, the kind you saw dinner ladies wear in the 1950s, came into view. Hazel and Hathaway walked back towards her, the younger a few strides ahead.

"Good afternoon," Hazel said pleasantly and politely, producing his warrant card. "My name is Detective Sergeant Stephen Hazel, and this is my colleague Detective Inspector James Hathaway." He nodded his hello with a smile. "We are here to speak to Mrs Staveley."

"I am Mrs Staveley, son." The woman's voice was a little shaky. "Is this about Grace?"

"Yes… We were wondering if we could come in?" There was a slight pause and the old lady walked back inside the house. Hazel gave Hathaway a grim look as they both followed her in. The corridor was clean and very tidy, the smell of air freshener prevalent. Hathaway closed the door and looked around as he followed Hazel. He took note of the framed pictures on the walls on either side of him all showing pictures of ancestors and of a young child, which he had a hunch could be Grace. A gentle slither along his ankles made him step back in shock. A cat decided to greet him hello with a purr and Hathaway could not help but turn his nose up at the animal in disapproval. The cat looked up at him accusingly and Hathaway discreetly waved his hand away telling it to shoo. He walked inside the living room where the old lady had set out a tray full of tea things for them. Hazel was standing next to her pouring the drink into three cups. He saw the look on Hathaway's face as if to tell him that wasn't his job to do, but the youngster ignored him and carried on.

"One lump or two, sir?" he asked. Hathaway took the cup and saucer from Hazel and proceeded to drop two sugar lumps into the cup. The old lady sat down in a chair and Hazel served her.

"Thank you, son," she said gratefully. "You have a very socially conscious colleague there, Inspector."

Hathaway said nothing and took a sip of his tea.

"Mrs Staveley," Hazel began. He stirred his tea before placing the teaspoon on the tray. "The reason for my call was to find out more about Grace. Could you tell us about her?"

"Grace is my grandchild," the old lady replied. "My daughter got involved in bad company. Got pregnant at 16 and couldn't look after her." She looked up and a look of recognition came over her face. Hathaway, leaning on the mantlepiece, stood up suddenly. Hazel glanced at both briefly. "I remember you now," she said to Hathaway, her voice still very soft. "You were that lovely sergeant that came over that day. You were with that equally lovely young lady. My husband really appreciated your endeavours. He knew you both did what you could." Hazel watched as he saw Hathaway's eyes fall to the rather dirty red floral carpet and noticed the look of sorrow. His attentions turned to the old lady, who touched him on the hand. "Is she dead? Grace?" Hazel looked into the lady's eyes and saw look of resignation, like she knew. He placed his cup and saucer down and crouched in front of her, holding her hand.

"She didn't suffer, Mrs Staveley." Hazel thought bending the truth would aid her frail heart. The old lady nodded and sniffed back a tear.

"Please help me again," she said looking straight at Hathaway. "Please find who killed my beautiful Grace."

Hathaway tried to hide his feelings as he looked up at her, but Hazel noticed so much more. Hathaway nodded.

"We will do what we can, Mrs Staveley," he told her. He finished his tea and walked over to place the crockery on the tray.

"I'll take these," Hazel offered as he placed his cup and saucer next to Hathaway's and took the tray to the kitchen. Hathaway made his way to the corridor only to stop and turn. He saw how lonely and withdrawn the old lady looked and couldn't help but feel sorry for her. Hazel walked past him in the corridor and stopped nearby. He watched as Hathaway walked past him to open the front door.

As they stepped out into the fresh air and Hathaway closed the door behind him, he lit up a cigarette and took a long drag, a look of pleasurable relief coming over him as the nicotine hit his lungs. Hazel stepped away not liking the smell of the smoke.

"Are you all right, sir? What exactly happened three years ago?"

"Let's go," Hathaway replied rather abruptly as he dropped the cigarette to the ground and stubbed it out with his foot. He walked past Hazel en route to the car. Hazel was by now intrigued by what happened inside and he made sure to find out when he got back to the station.

* * *

Clarissa walked back up the steps from the pub back on to Broad Street and looked in both directions. She saw the hubbub of the tourists in the direction of George Street and decided against going that way. The left-hand side, although busy, seemed less impersonal. She staggered her way down, obviously having indulged in too much alcohol. People watched as she dragged her feet, some with concern but most in disgust. A group of young tourists started laughing at her and started jeering at her in their mother tongue. Clarissa looked up at saw she was at the top of the road. She turned left and continue to stagger down the street not realising two lads in striped rugby shirts were following not long behind.

* * *

The mood and atmosphere of the beer garden tables were jovial and full of laughter and conversation. The sound of the river echoed nearby with the various sounds of the riverboats' engines blending in as they passed. Hazel looked out on to this picturesque part of the Thames by the Folly Bridge and began to think. What was it about Grace Staveley that affected Hathaway so much? The archives gave the details of it, but not in full. He wanted to know everything about her, the ins and outs, what happened afterwards etc. Hazel was one to always to satisfy his own curiosity. He was naturally inquisitive. But, then his thoughts turned once more back to Gemma and Nell and wondered whether he was biting off more than he could chew. Not that there was anything going on between him and Gemma. He enjoyed his time with Nell, no doubt about it, and she was gorgeous as anything! But Gemma seemed to entrance him somewhat – those eyes of hers, her smile and her general attitude to life and police work struck a chord with him. Just like Hathaway with his title, he was getting used to being addressed as 'Sarge' and he found himself to liking it a great deal. A shuffle opposite him got his attention and he turned his head. Hathaway was sitting opposite after placing two drinks in between them. As they were still on duty, it was either juice or soft drinks.

"Thanks, sir." Hazel took up his glass of orange juice to his lips. He studied Hathaway, who was by now conscious of what Hazel wanted or near enough expected. He took a sip of his cranberry and orange concoction and chucked his packet of cigarettes and lighter on the table.

"We found her mother in a doss house just outside the city," he replied. "Lizzie and I were investigating some supplier and decided to check that place out on the reliability of some informant. She was on death's door, needles and other paraphernalia around her. She had taken a massive overdose of crack and was unconscious. We got her to the hospital. I saw Grace there for the first time. She had been selling herself to get money to help her mother pay off this dealer whom she was indebted to. Lizzie and I were appalled. Her mother just about survived and vowed to change. She told us where to find this dealer and other one we were investigating. Turns out both were involved in a prostitution ring. Mr and Mrs Staveley were grateful to us for saving Grace and her mother."

"Wow." Hazel was dumbfounded. He took another sip of his juice. "So, what happened?"

"Grace's mother relapsed and fell back. She went missing two month later and was found hanged. Lizzie and I had to break the news to her mother. Her father died a month after she left hospital of a heart attack."

"What about Grace?"

"Cleaned up her act and got into Oxford. She sent us a card thanking us for saving her life…" Hathaway stopped suddenly. He lit a cigarette.

"You didn't know it was her, sir." Hathaway didn't reply, but Hazel knew.

"This Clarissa, her friend. She mentioned someone called Serena?"

"Yes, her housemate. That was as far as I got."

"Clarissa said she knows who killed Grace." Hazel sat up and placed his half-empty glass on the table. He took out his notepad from his inside pocket and got ready to jot things down.

"Did Clarissa say where Serena had disappeared to?"

"She says Berkshire, but something tells me she is still around here."

"Okay. I'll get hold of the train and coach station to see if they have any CCTV footage. At least we can see which destination she was heading to." Hazel looked up suddenly. "I didn't like the guy with her much though." Hathaway agreed. He reached over to answer his phone, which rung suddenly.

"Hathaway." He stood up and walked a short distance away to take the call. Hazel then began to think of his own device and fished it out of his pocket. There was a message waiting for him which made his face light up with joy. He smiled as he read what was sent. He placed the phone to his ear as he dialled the number back.

"Hello? Hey. I am  _so sorry_ about before…" He stopped as he heard the voice at the other end speak to him. "How are you?" He listened again. "Oh, really?" The tone of his voice fell in disappointment. "Have you told anyone yet?" Hazel's body sank. He sighed. "Okay… Well, take care. Keep in touch, yeah?" He looked at his handset and saw his wallpaper of a random river view. He sighed heavily and looked up as Hathaway sat back down opposite him. The blond inspector studied his dark-haired sergeant, who looked like he was given a swift kick in the teeth.

"Hazel?"

"Sir?"

"You all right?"

"Yes, sir."

Hathaway knew otherwise but didn't inquire.

"Hazel!"

"Sir?" He noticed Hathaway on his feet ready to leave. He quickly drank the rest of his juice before stepping over the bench he was sitting on and followed him. "Coach station?" He knew the answer and opened the driver's door of the car getting in. Hathaway slammed the passenger's door shut and looked at Hazel, noticing the expression on his face. He strapped himself in as Hazel began to drive.

* * *

Sounds of crashing and banging and the odd shuffling noise was heard blatantly down a side street. It was near a residential area, but not close enough. Groans and moans and the odd frustrated scream intertwined with the noise. Suddenly a glass jar was thrown against the wall, its coloured contents spilling to the ground. A sliver of blood appeared around the corner trickling along the ground, mixing with the coloured beads…

* * *

Hathaway and Hazel walked into the control room of the coach station where the security guard on duty was going through the CCTV on the day Serena had supposedly travelled. He knew roughly as to what time from the information Hathaway gave to him via Clarissa. They watched as the time lapsed footage was played on the screen in front of them. One by one, various passengers arrived and departed as did the coaches. The two detectives were patient enough, but what if Clarissa had got it all wrong? What if Serena was at the coach station but changed her mind? Where would she be now and why the call that caused so much anguish? Hazel and Hathaway continued to watch trying to spot a young girl vaguely similar to the description written. Suddenly, Hazel spotted something and asked the guard to rewind the tape back a bit.

"There!" he said. The guard paused the video and Hathaway jotted down the time on the screen. "That's her."

"Where was this coach going to?" Hathaway asked. The guard looked behind his shoulder.

"Gloucester," he replied.

"What?!" Hathaway closed his eyes realising his abrupt tone. Hazel continued to look at the footage.

"No, wait, sir." He asked the guard politely to continue playing, but slowly. He watched as frame by frame, the young girl moved slowly in the queue before she eventually boarded. "Reading, sir." He looked at Hathaway, pointing at the coach on the screen. "I recognise this company. They specialise in Oxford to Reading services. They occasionally go to London, but very rare."

Hathaway jotted down the information and tapped the guard on the shoulder. He turned to face him.

"Do you know if you could find out from this company where this young girl got off?"

"I can try." The guard stood up, made a mental note of the time and date of the still and walked away. Hazel and Hathaway continued to stare at the screen. If Clarissa was right and Serena did call from wherever she said she did, they needed to find her – and fast!

* * *

The front door slammed and footsteps were heard running up the stairs. They entered the bathroom where the tap was quickly turned on. Blood filled the sink as the water hit the recipient's hands and the liquid soap container emptied out near enough immediately. A hand quickly turned the tap off and dumped the rather watery blood-stained plastic soap container in the bin. The sound of the shower was then heard followed by the drawing back of the shower curtain. Various bits of clothing hit the floor, one of which was a striped rugby shirt.

* * *

Hathaway walked into his and Hazel's office, the younger walking down the corridor to update Bright. The tall detective sat down at his desk and logged into his computer, his email Inbox waiting for him. As the messages downloaded, he took a look at his in tray and in particular Hazel's recommendation for assessment. He picked up the folder and looked at the documents, taking up one in particular. It had Hazel's full name, date of birth and longevity of service thus far. It also noted which station he served at previously plus where he trained. It also listed how long he was in uniform and his record. It made impressive reading and Hathaway wasn't surprised that he sped up the ranks very quickly. But, was he really up for the rank of Inspector so soon? He wondered why Bright suddenly put him forward for it. She wasn't one for favouritism. If that was the case, he himself would be up there in the adorable ranks. Hathaway chuckled at the thought of it and continued reading through. His signature would be required in order to recommend him to be put forward, but Hathaway knew to hold off. Hazel still had a million and one things to learn, particularly his temper. Not that Hathaway was one to hold back either. His temper nearly landed him in trouble many a time when he served under Lewis, but in time he learned how to just… let it be. He placed the paper back in the folder and closed it, throwing it back into the in tray out of mind for now.

Hazel walked in and straight away made a beeline for Hathaway's desk. An envelope was thrown on top and Hathaway picked it up. Hazel walked back to his desk and sat down. He decided against logging back into his computer.

"Scared you might send an email to the wrong person, Hazel?"

"Ha-ha, sir." Hazel was not in the mood. He began to stare blankly into space. Hathaway took the letter out from the envelope and read it. He glanced at Hazel before folding it back up and placing it inside one of his desk drawers.

"What did Bright say?" he asked.

"Told us to find the destination of this coach," Hazel replied, still not in the mood. Hathaway watched him and glanced at the folder in his in tray. He picked up his phone straight away, which was sitting on his desk and answered.

"Say that again?" Hazel sat up taking note of the tone of Hathaway's voice. He watched as he began pacing up and down before the call ended. "Let's go." He made his move to leave.

"What happened?" Hazel stood up.

"Another one." Hazel rolled his eyes and followed Hathaway out, but not before he stopped in the doorway, a sharp pain shooting through his body. He groaned a little and Hathaway turned.

"Hazel?" He rushed over. "What's the matter? Are you all right?"

"The pain…" Hazel covered the side of his neck. His eyes then shot to the ceiling, his eyelids flickering before he collapsed into Hathaway's arms. Bright and a few officers ran out of their offices on hearing Hathaway's calls for help and the Chief Super ran over to them.

"Stephen?" She gently shook him. "Stephen, can you hear me?" She then noticed the mark on his neck and gently pressed against the skin. "James, call for an ambulance. Now!" She gently laid Hazel on the floor as Hathaway did as was asked. "Stay with me, Stephen," she told him gently. Hathaway crouched down in front of them.

"On its way," he told her. He gently took out a clean tissue from a packet in his pocket and held it against Hazel's neck. He grew worried for him.

"DI Hathaway?" A young uniformed officer got his attention.

"Yes?"

"Sorry, but Doctor Aurora wants you immediately." Hathaway immediately grew irritated.

"Tell her she has to wait! I'll see her in pathology." The uniformed officer nodded and ran back inside the office she came from.

"James." Bright looked at him and Hathaway knew by the tone of her voice she wanted him to see to business. "Go on," she told him gently. "I'll make sure to let you know how he is. Don't keep Aurora waiting."

"Ma'am." Hathaway stood up. "Rebecca!" he called out. The same uniformed officer poked her head out of the door.

"Sir?" she asked.

"Come with me. Tell Aurora we will meet her there."

"Sir." She walked out and followed Hathaway, she speaking through the radio to advise one of her colleagues at the scene they were on their way. Bright looked down at Hazel and gently cleared some loose strands of his dark hair away from his forehead. She leaned down and whispered something in his ear which caused his fingers to react as a result. The dull thumping of running feet made her look up as two paramedics ran through the double doors in the distance. Bright stood up and stepped aside as they got to work. She informed them of what happened to him and also of Gemma's current condition.

* * *

Aurora stood up from the dead body and stepped aside to jot things down on her clipboard. She gave the nod to two of her colleagues who zipped up the black body bag and wheeled it towards the van. Hathaway and Rebecca walked towards her, the uniformed officer taking her position by the tape. Aurora looked up and noticed one piece of the party was missing.

"What happened?" she asked. Hathaway looked at her regrettably. "His neck?"

"On his way to hospital." Aurora couldn't say anything. They both knew what each other was thinking. "All right," Aurora continued taking a deep breath. "Your latest victim is another messy one." Hathaway noticed blood splatter nearby where the body was removed from. "Bludgeoned to death. No murder weapon as yet, but I don't want to speculate." They began to walk slowly away. "We found some coloured beading by that wall there." She pointed ahead and Hathaway noticed three SOCO forensics tending to the scene, planting markers, taking pictures and picking up each bloodied bead one by one with what looked like tweezers and felt for them. It was an unenviable task. He lifted up the tape so Aurora could walk through. He let go and nodded his thanks to Rebecca as they walked past.

"The glass jar used in retaliation?" he asked.

"Perhaps." They stopped by her vehicle. "James, you now have three bodies. How many more am I going to find?"

"We're doing our best, doctor!" Hathaway tried not to raise his voice, but his tone was firm. Aurora opened the back door and placed her kit inside. She took off her white boiler suit to reveal a rather smart looking one. Hathaway could not help but admire as she threw her work one inside.

"Eyes off!" she told him in amusement as she slammed the door shut.

"Hot date?" Hathaway asked with a cheeky glint in his eye. Aurora rolled her eyes.

"I'll have your report to you by midday tomorrow," she told him. "In the meantime…" She turned before she opened the driver's door. "I have remains of one and the body of another in storage. Please advise when I can release them. It is a shame they are there in that cold room alone." Hathaway nodded and watched as Aurora got in and started the engine. He saw her wave him over from the open window. "Yes, it is a 'hot date'," she told him. "But no more questions!" Hathaway grinned and tipped up an imaginary hat in farewell stepping back. Aurora chuckled as she drove away. Hathaway took out his phone as he walked to his car.

"Ma'am, any news?" He unlocked the door with the remote before getting in. "Aurora will have the report ready by tomorrow afternoon. The victim was bludgeoned to death and coloured beads were found nearby." He paused. "All right." He placed his phone beside him only to pick it up again before he could place the key in the ignition. "Hathaway…" He dropped his keys as he listened. "When?" His voice cracked a little. "I don't understand…" Once again, he listened before the call ceased. Hathaway looked at his home screen before taking a deep breath. He placed his phone back down beside him and sniffed back an escaped tear before bending down to pick up his keys. He saw his reflection in the rear-view mirror and noticed how tired and stressed he actually was. Hathaway ignored it and turned the key in the ignition, the tyres screeching as he sped off down the road.

* * *

Hathaway took a swig of his bottle of beer before placing it on the coffee table in front of him. The curtains were drawn and the living room light was on dimmer mode. The soft sound of the television broke into the silence but all Hathaway cared about was looking through some various old photographs dotted around on the table. They were pictures he managed to retrieve from his father's belongings. Rare pictures of his childhood that showed he and Nell at their happiest, mostly with their mother. There were others too that showed Hathaway at Cambridge, when he was part of the rowing team, playing sports (badly) and also with his fellow theology students. One particular one caught his eye and he picked it up. It was a solo one of Caroline, taken in his dorm room. She was sitting on the edge of his bed wearing a baggy T-shirt and jet black cycling shorts with illuminous pink stripes down the side. She had her fluffy animal slippers on her feet and her short heavy fringed bobbed hair was slightly out of shape. She was smiling at the camera. Hathaway smiled remembering, more so because that was the first night that she finally let go of her inhibitions. It was a passionate and magical moment between them, their first time in sleeping together, and he recalled how he held her tenderly afterwards, kissing her gently. He knew it wasn't easy for her to let go, but he would have waited as long as it took. He remembered her admitting it was her first time and that she felt he was the one she wanted to lose it to – that was how much she loved him. Hathaway stared at the picture, so much so he didn't realise his mobile phone was ringing loudly, the handset next to the bottle of alcohol. Hathaway snapped out of his trip down memory lane and turned the volume down on the television.

"Yep!" he answered as was typical when he was off duty. The sound of Bright's voice made him sit up straight. "On my way." He put the TV on standby and grabbed his hoodie, which was slung over the armrest. He picked up his keys from the tray in font of the mirrored table in the corridor before leaving. The front door opened and Hathaway cursed under his breath as he stopped to switch off the light before leaving again.

* * *

The couple were a man and woman in their early 50s. They had travelled from Scotland. The woman was anxious and worried. She had thinning brown hair and blue eyes. Her skin was showing obvious signs of ageing, which was only exacerbated by the worry. She was dressed in a pair of crop trousers and a white blouse. Her husband had greying hair and dark eyes. He was dressed in jeans and a jumper. He wasn't far off worried and wondered how he managed to get them both to Oxford in one piece. Bright met Hathaway in the corridor of Pathology. She frowned at the casual attire her detective inspector had on but had no choice but to overlook it.

"They arrived early," she told him in a hushed whisper.

"Second victim's parents?" Hathaway asked. Bright nodded. Hathaway knew they were the ones that Hazel called. He cleared his throat and walked over to them. "Good evening, Mr and Mrs..."

"Bellamy," the husband replied, his accent strong and distinctive.

"I am Detective Inspector James Hathaway." The two men shook hands. "I understand you received a call from Detective Sergeant Stephen Hazel."

"I spoke to him," the wife replied. Hathaway shook hands with her.

"Pleased to meet you," he said politely. "Please first off, accept my apologies for the way we have met and for my attire. I would have preferred for us to meet under more happier circumstances."

"Thank you very much, Inspector," Mr Bellamy replied, grateful for the courtesy.

"Your daughter studied at Oxford?"

"Yes," Mrs Bellamy replied, pride in her voice despite the anxiety. "She was the first in both our families to make it to university let alone Oxford! We were all so proud…" She broke down suddenly and her husband held her.

"Can we see her?" he asked.

"Of course," Hathaway replied. "Please follow me." The couple followed Hathaway the short distance, past Bright and into pathology itself. Inside, Aurora, in her cream trousers and white blouse with a plastic apron, greeted them respectfully. She was standing at the side of the slab, the green linen covering the body. Almost immediately, Mrs Bellamy started wailing. She buried her face in her husband's chest.

"Come now, Elsie," he whispered to her, giving her strength. "We have to do this. We have to bring Elspeth home." He looked down at her as she looked at him nodding slowly. Mrs Bellamy turned her head to look at Aurora and together they walked forward, Hathaway respectfully standing to the side. Aurora introduced herself and asked the couple if they were ready. Once she got the nod, Aurora gently pulled back the linen to reveal just the face of the victim. Straight away, confirmation was made by a gentle and single wail of the mother and a tearful nod of the head from the father. Aurora covered Elspeth's face and waved over her colleagues. Hathaway gave his condolences to the couple and left, Aurora taking care of matters from there, including the news she discovered.

"What a waste," Bright commented in a low voice. "What a waste of talent."

"Yes, ma'am." Hathaway tried not to let this affect him. "She had the early stages of ovarian cancer," he told her. Bright was struck dumb. They looked at the parents as the mother nearly collapsed to the floor, her husband managing to hold her up. Aurora obviously had just broken the news to them. Hathaway stared at them, memories of his childhood flooding back. Bright looked at him and noticed how far away he was in his thoughts.

"You can go, James. There is no change in regards Stephen. He is still undergoing treatment."

"Ma'am." Hathaway nodded and walked away leaving Bright to watch as he disappeared. She sighed heavily and looked at her watch before following him.

* * *

The next morning, Hathaway was at his desk looking at the letter that Hazel gave him the day before which he read hurriedly. The look on his face, although expressionless, spoke volumes by his eyes. This again wasn't the news he wanted. He sighed heavily and folded it back up, placing it in the envelope it came in. He looked at the empty desk of Hazel's and once again cast himself a lonely figure. The sound of his desk phone became his saviour and Hathaway wasted no time in picking up.

"Are you sure?" He grabbed a piece of scrap paper nearby and started jotting. "And are you sure she definitely got off there?" Hathaway listened to the reply. "All right, thanks." He hung up and sighed. No Hazel, no Gemma. Who could he ask to assist him?

"Mitch?" Hathaway walked into another bustling office. The detective in question, an even younger lad with brown hair and blue eyes turned his head from his position at his desk.

"All right, Hathaway? What can I do for you?" He stood up and walked to the door where Hathaway spoke to him in the corridor. Mitch's DI, a black woman in her late 30s, walked out almost immediately wondering what was going on. Hathaway spoke to her in detail about the case and also about Hazel and Gemma.

"Yeah, no worries," she said to him. "You can borrow Mitchell here, but I want him straight back."

"Without hesitation, Alannah." Hathaway flashed an all familiar grin and the pretty DI chuckled as they walked off.

"Hey, Hathaway!" she called. He and Mitch turned. "We're rooting for both Steve and Gemma." Hathaway acknowledged her good wishes and the two detectives continued down the corridor.

"Fancy a trip to Gloucester, Mitch?"

"Nothing would make me happier, Jim!" The slightly sarcastic enthusiastic tone of Mitch's voice made Hathaway laugh as they left the station. He reached into his pocket and threw the keys to Mitch, who caught it very cleanly one-handed.

"Nice catch."

"Cricket, sir." Hathaway looked slightly impressed as they both got in.

* * *

Stephen Hazel's eyes shot open suddenly and he was overcome with panic. His heart began to race as did the Adrenalin which suddenly engulfed his system. His heart monitor beside him started to bleep quickly and loudly and a nurse burst into his room.

"Easy does it, Mr Hazel," she told him gently and calmly.

"Where am I?" Hazel asked, his state of panic interfering with his co-ordinates. He suddenly grabbed the nurse by her scrubs.

"You are in the Radcliffe, Mr Hazel..."

"The history library?" Now Hazel was confused.

"Radcliffe General," the nurse replied with a smile. Hazel took a deep breath as the medication made its way down his bloodstream. Slowly, he began to gain his bearings and noticed the kind face of the nurse standing over him.

"What happened?'

"You had a delayed reaction to your injuries, Mr Hazel. We've sorted you out. You will be out of here soon." Hazel nodded and then thought of Gemma. He jerked his left arm and nearly hit the table next to his bed. "Take it easy, Mr Hazel. You don't want bruising to add to your invalidity, do you?" She smiled warmly at him. "Is there anyone you would like us to call for you? A family member, girlfriend, colleague?" Hazel shook his head and the nurse made sure he was all right before leaving. As the door to his room closed gently, Hazel finally relaxed, his thoughts turning again to Gemma. Comforted by the thought of her, and also by the medication, the young sergeant gently closed his eyes falling back into slumber.

* * *

Hathaway and Mitch got out of their vehicle and ran up the steps into a police station in Gloucester City Centre. Judging by what they saw of the reception area, both officers felt Thames Valley had a lot to make up for. They approached the desk sergeant and introduced themselves, Hathaway explaining for their visit and that they were here to see one of the inspectors.

"Can I see your warrant cards?" the sergeant asked. "Not that I don't believe you, you understand, but you can never be too careful nowadays, plus you are both far too good looking to be police officers." She was middle aged, her Gloucester accent blatant. Both Hathaway and Mitch obliged trying not to laugh. Once passed, they were pointed down a corridor where they were to take the next two left and a right, then up a flight of stairs. The two Oxford detectives maybe thought they may have given their station an unfair assessment as they walked up the stairs. Straight away, the familiar sounds of CID greeted them. A rather tall gentleman walked out of one office. He was well over six foot with black hair and chocolate brown skin. He was dressed very smartly, his ID badge clipped to his belt on the left-hand side.

"James Hathaway?" he asked him. Hathaway nodded.

"Inspector Gideon Rockford." He put out his hand. Hathaway shook it and introduced Mitch. "Pleased to meet you, constable." He shook his hand and they followed him down the corridor. "I understand you are looking for a missing person?"

"We are, yes," Hathaway replied. Mitch look through each window as he passed and observed how busy and quite pressured his fellow counterparts were. He walked inside an office where Rockford closed the door behind him. "Her name is Serena van Hayden."

Hathaway watched as Rockford grabbed a file from a pile on top of a cabinet. He passed it over to him and Mitch looked at the papers inside.

"She has run away before?" he asked noticing the past missing person's reports.

"She is notorious for it, ever since she was around 10 or 11. Her family life was bad. She has learning difficulties, detectives. I think she did it for escape. She would go missing for a few days, worry her family sick and then turn up here."

"We think she may have returned to Gloucester," Hathaway said. "She was seen boarding a coach in Oxford en route to Reading, but we think she may have caught another coach altogether."

"CCTV?"

"Showed her boarding the Reading service." Rockford nodded slowly, his mind thinking away. He reached into his pocket and took out his wallet. He handed Hathaway a business card.

"She was her case worker," Rockford explained. "Took care of things after her family decided she was too much to handle. She is the best person to speak to. I will give her a call to let her know you are on your way. In the meantime, I will get one of my team to look into coach arrivals over the past five days and obtain CCTV footage. I know what Serena looks like. I will call you either way what we find."

Both Hathaway and Mitch walked out of the station towards their vehicle. The youngster turned the GPS on his phone and tapped in the post code on the business card. Hathaway meanwhile looked at the contents of the police file and thought about Caroline. He took out his phone and looked at the last message he received from her. His fingers glided over the reply button but thought better of it. He closed the file as Mitch reversed the car and drove slowly out onto the main road ahead of them.

* * *

The front door slammed, and a student dropped his bag inconsiderately by the doorway. He was of medium height with black hair and brown eyes. He wore a striped rugby shirt with the crest of the college he belonged to on the breast. He walked casually towards the kitchen where he opened the fridge and drank the last supply of milk from the biodegradable bottle. He dumped it into the pedal bin nearby and closed the fridge door shut. The kitchen itself was spotless, which was a strange sight as it was always guaranteed to be a huge mess. The student respected the effort and made sure he left it as he found it. He took out his phone to call someone as he picked up his bag.

"It's Jed. Have you seen either of them recently?" He began to walk slowly up the stairs. "Why do you think I am asking? No, the kitchen is still clean." He reached a closed door and fished out his keys from the front pocket of his bag. Something the person said at the other end got his attention suddenly and he dropped his bag on the floor in shock.

* * *

Hathaway pressed the button on the intercom and waited for the response. Mitch stepped back to have a look at the rather tall and domineering building ahead of him. He raised his head to look upwards. It seemed to touch the sky or at least skimmed the surface. Hathaway glanced at him before pressing the button again. His second attempt was a success and once introduced himself and whom he was to see was let in with instructions on where to go. Mitch followed Hathaway inside and they walked down the corridor and up a short flight of stairs. An elder woman met them at the top. She was on the plump side with thinning grey hair and blue eyes. She wore her glasses on top of her head and she was dressed in a long brown pleated skirt and white frilly blouse. Hathaway noticed the kindness in her features and smiled as she put out her hand.

"Detective James Hathaway?" she asked. Hathaway nodded. "Hi there. I'm Rochelle." She shook his hand.

"I'm DC Mitchell Rowan," Mitch said.

"Pleased to meet you, DC Rowan." She also shook his hand. "Please, follow me." The two detectives walked down a narrow and creaky floored corridor and into an office at the far end. "Excuse the mess," Rochelle apologised a little embarrassed. Hathaway looked around. It was rather cluttered with books and papers dotted around. The window was open with the smell of food from the eateries nearby wafting in. Rochelle quickly tidied up the sofa, plumping up the cushions, and gestured to them both to take a seat. "So, I hear from Gideon that you are investigating young Serena?"

Hathaway sat down on the edge of the sofa. "Yes, we are. We believe she may be here in Gloucester."

"Has she run away again?"

"We do not want to speculate."

"She must have witnessed something traumatic." Rochelle sat down. "When I first met Serena, she was exceptionally withdrawn. She hardly spoke to me let alone anyone else. But, I could tell she was extremely gifted. She eventually told me she felt she was being punished for her intelligence. She witnessed the murder of her grandparents when she was five years of age. You can't imagine how much that affects a young child." Hathaway looked to the floor briefly. Mitch turned his head to look at the wall.

"We are investigating three murders in Oxford," Hathaway explained. "We think Serena may have witnessed one or more of them."

"Poor child." Rochelle shook her head regrettably. "I hear she is a post-grad student at Oxford."

"She is, yes. She is due to sit her exams very soon."

"Exams?" Rochelle seemed a bit perplexed. "But, those are over. You recently had Thrashing over there, didn't you?"

Hathaway nodded. Rochelle stood up to take a huge lever back arch folder from the shelf behind her.

"I had to put her into care," she told the detectives as she went through the plastic wallets. "She didn't want to go back home." She eventually took out one wallet and handed it over to Hathaway, who stood up to collect it. Mitch stood next to him.

"It is imperative we find Serena, Rochelle," Hathaway said.

"That might help you, Detective Hathaway. It is her latest picture. I make it a matter of importance to have a shot taken of all my children when their cases close." Hathaway looked at the picture of Serena through the clear plastic. He noticed the troubled look in her eyes, the look of sadness and fear.

"Do you know of any places she could have possibly gone to? Places that might remind her of her childhood?"

"You mean places of escapism, DC Rowan? No, I'm afraid not. As I said, she was very withdrawn. She would only give me little bits of information." Mitch took the wallet from Hathaway to take a look. They thanked Rochelle for her help and left.

"Where to now?" Mitch asked as they walked fast paced towards the car.

"Back to Oxford," Hathaway replied. "We need to have another word with her housemate, Clarissa." Mitch nodded and jogged off ahead. Hathaway stopped in his tracks as his phone rang. He saw Caroline's name flashing up and quickly answered. "Where are you?" he asked in a quiet voice, turning his back so Mitch wouldn't pick up on anything. The look on Hathaway's voice was more confused than ever. "Hold on, Caroline. You're where?" He listened for a short while. "When will you be…?" He was cut off abruptly. "I love you, Caroline! Just… come home." The call ended just as quick as it arrived, and Hathaway found himself looking at a home screen picture of the photo of Caroline in his Cambridge dorm room. He tried not to look hurt as he took a deep breath for composure before jogging over to meet Mitch inside the car.

* * *

Nell Hathaway gently guided Hazel into the television room where he carefully sat down in a rather big comfy chair. The room was empty, the low sound of the television the only thing that was heard. Nell looked up and saw the panel that was  _Loose Women_ interviewing someone that looked like an actor. Nell listened and giggled as the actor, a fairly good looking guy with reddish facial hair that matched the hair on his head, blushed and chuckled at the comments thrown at him – some a bit cut throat for a weekday afternoon's viewing. He seemed to be surviving – just. Hazel looked at Nell and looked at what was making her laugh. As he listened, his eyes widened as did his mouth. He let out a laugh and Nell looked at him.

"I wouldn't want to be in his shoes," he said to her. "I'd be eaten alive!" He studied the actor's features as the camera stayed on him. "He looks familiar," he observed. "Like I have seen him somewhere before." He smiled and looked at Nell, who was holding his hand. "Thank you for coming," he said gratefully.

"It is a pleasure," Nell replied, returning the smile. "I had a check-up here anyway."

"Everything all right?" Hazel sat up a little in concern. Nell leaned over to kiss him.

"Everything is fine," she told him gently. "My heart is still in one piece."

"I am glad." Hazel smiled in relief. "I will be out in a few days. Looks like they finally sorted my neck out."

"I hope you don't mind me letting James know. He may not have told me outright, but he is worried sick." She took note of the look on Hazel's face. "I haven't told him about us, don't worry." She laughed and gently caressed his face with her fingers. "You are a fighter, Stephen. You will pull through."

"As you will too, Nell." They bowed their heads together, so their foreheads could touch; a sign of mutual affection. Hazel raised his, so he could kiss Nell on her forehead. Their eyes met as did their lips. Nell leaned forward to whisper something in Hazel's ear and he looked her a bit surprised. He nodded however in acknowledgement and Nell stood up.

"I think the nurse here wants to give you your meds." Hazel looked to his left and saw the kind figure of the nurse who had tended to him earlier holding two small plastic cups, one in each hand.

"Your girlfriend is right, Mr Hazel," she told him winking at Nell before walking over. Nell stood aside to leave them to it. She turned to face one of the big windows and took out her phone to text her brother to let him know his friend will be okay. As she hit 'send', she gazed out onto the horizon ahead and thought about things. She could feel the tightness in her chest, but the specialist had reassured her things will be okay – she just needed to take it easy. The main thing was that she was no longer on borrowed time. Nell turned to look at Hazel, who had finished taking his meds, and smiled. She was fond of him, that she knew. Anything more? She wasn't sure. She was just going to enjoy the time she spent with him, in whatever capacity. The nurse looked at her with a smile before leaving and Nell walked over re-taking her seat beside him. She held Hazel's hand and they began chatting, their hushed dialogue taking over the sound of the television.

* * *

Hathaway walked back into his and Hazel's office and straight away picked up the phone. Mitch meanwhile sauntered in a few minutes later and stood by the door watching him. He observed, in quiet amusement, how Hathaway was acting which was a complete contrast to his own DI. But, he also knew Hazel and Gemma were absent and he sympathised. He took note of Clarissa's name being mentioned and walked over. Hathaway placed the phone down and began to think. He saw Mitch in front of him and took out the rolled up plastic wallet from his inside pocket.

"Any joy with Clarissa?"

"Nope." Hathaway looked at the photo of Serena again, her eyes sending him so many messages. He picked up the wallet and rushed out. "Mitch?" His voice was heard from the corridor. The young detective ran to the doorway.

"Yeah?"

"Call the coach station. See if they have got hold of where that coach was going. Then go to Pathology and see if Aurora has the report on the third body."

"Sure." Mitch walked back inside as Hathaway ran down the corridor to Bright's office. He knocked on the door and burst in upon being prompted. Bright stood up upon seeing him and walked around her desk.

"James?" she asked. "What happened?"

"TV," Hathaway replied. "We need to arrange a television appeal."

"Woah. Calm down." Bright gently ushered Hathaway to a seat and poured him a glass of water. "Tell me what happened? Why an appeal?"

"Mitch and I went to Gloucester. I had a hunch Serena may have gone there. Turns out, she has a habit of running away even when she was younger. I think if we can get her close friend Clarissa to appeal for her to return, we may flush out who killed those three people."

Bright thought about things for a moment. She was leant against the side of her desk.

"Do you think this Serena did it?"

"No, ma'am. But, I think she may know who did." He handed Bright the plastic wallet. "This is part of her case file from her social worker. It doesn't make good reading."

Bright came off her position and leaned over to take the wallet from him. She studied the documents carefully, looking at the photograph of Serena in the process. Hathaway watched as she turned to rest the documents on her desk behind her.

"All right, do it. But, make sure this will work."

"Thank you, ma'am." Hathaway placed the empty glass on the round table in front of him and stood to leave. He tensed up suddenly upon seeing the look on Mitch's face outside. Bright observed the two detectives in hushed conference before Hathaway sprinted off back down the corridor.

"Mitch?" Bright called him in.

"It's not good, ma'am," he replied. "Not good at all." He gave Bright a grim look before running out.

* * *

Hathaway stared at the broken body of Clarissa in front of him on the slab, the familiar green covers up to her shoulders. Her once pretty face had been battered in many places, the pathologists tried as much to clean her up to a decent state. She had died horrifically; and he didn't need Aurora to confirm that. The past caught up with the tall detective once again and he stepped back to bow his head in silent prayer. He had to do it. This was a complete waste of life. This girl had it all in front of her. Hathaway looked up upon finishing his prayer and knew he would have to repeat the morbid task of speaking to grieving parents. The soft steps of Aurora caught his attention and he stood up straight to greet her.

"Clarissa Montague-Raymond, 20 years of age. Cause of death: extreme blunt force trauma to the back of her head. There are also various cuts and bruises all over her body. She has five broken ribs, a shattered collar bone and fractured cheek and jaw bones..." She stopped as she became aware of the look on Hathaway's face and knew she went a bit too far. She walked over to him and touched his arm. "Have you heard from her, James?" Hathaway looked at her but didn't reply. Aurora stepped back so he could approach the body. He just stared at her, not taking his eyes off the injuries on her face. This upset Hathaway as all his ideas had just gone down the drain. But, the need to find the killer was made even more urgent. "The results on the blood on the beads came back. They were Clarissa's. They also found something else at the scene." Hathaway turned almost immediately. He followed Aurora to an adjacent room where forensics were hard at work. She picked up a small plastic evidence bag on a ledge and showed it to him. "It's a college crest," she told him. Hathaway walked forward to inspect it closely. His eyes squinted trying to figure out the stitched writing, which was unravelling quite messily. Aurora handed him the bag.

"Anything rugby related?" he asked before retracting it. He thanked Aurora for the evidence and left.

"James?" He turned. Aurora walked up to him. "You are too good to be on your own. Caroline loves you and I know you love her…" Hathaway tried so hard to put on a brave front. "Wherever she is, go to her. I think she may want you there."

"Thank you for this, doctor." He indicated the evidence bag and walked away, wiping his eyes dry as he did. Aurora watched as he disappeared and shook her head slowly and sadly. She walked over to a SOCO team member who handed her a piece of paper.

* * *

Hathaway walked back into his office and sat down with a heavy sigh. As with all cases, things never are straightforward or run smooth, but coupled with his own personal issues, this was not what he wanted or needed. He took a look again at the photo of Serena, her eyes digging into his soul.

"Where are you, Serena?" he asked. "What is it that you know?" He picked up his desk phone on the third ring. "Mitch? Where are you? All right, I'm on my way." He placed the plastic wallet inside his desk drawer and ran out the door.

The coach station's control room was unusually busy by the time Hathaway arrived. He had to rather rudely barge pass a few employees before reaching the CCTV unit where Mitch was waiting for him. He had some hardware in his hand. Hathaway glanced at it before the head of security ushered them both into his office.

"Detectives," he said to them. "We managed to find what you are looking for. It took a while though. We had a system's malfunction that morning. Luckily, we back up all of our footage." He pointed the remote control to the television and straight away they saw Serena taking her place in the queue.

"This is the Reading coach she boarded," Hathaway told him rather impatiently.

"Just hold on one minute, Inspector." The voice of the head of security was serene. "There!" He paused the footage and Hathaway stepped forward to look closely. "You see what happened? She stepped on the coach for Reading but changed her mind at the last minute. Look at the destination on the side of the vehicle." Hathaway did as was advised. He turned and asked Mitch to head back to the station.

"Give that footage you have to Fraise. Get him to clean it up as much as he can. I will head back to Gloucester to speak to Rochelle." Mitch nodded and left. Hathaway thanked the security head before running out, past the other personnel and out into the coach station itself. He looked at his watch as he ran to his own car getting in. "Hello, Rochelle?" he spoke into his phone as he turned the ignition. "It's Detective Inspector Hathaway. I need your help again. I am on my way." He chucked his phone beside him and sped off.

* * *

The television crews gathered around the front of the table as the microphones were being set up. One by one, the newspaper press took their places, their photographers ready to snap away. The Thames Valley Police background boards were already erected behind the table. Hathaway and Bright stood to the side ready to take their positions and launch their appeal. They were also ready for the barrage of questions which may descend on them straight afterwards.

"Good luck," Bright told him. They both walked towards the table. The shutters of the photographers' lenses and the flashes went off as they took their seats. Hathaway scanned the press pit in front of him before speaking.

"We are looking for this person." He showed the picture of Serena. "Her name is Serena van Hayden. She is 19 years of age and is studying Psychology at Oxford. It is imperative we find her as soon as possible." He placed the photo down on the table and looked straight into the camera. "Serena, we just want to tell you that you are not in trouble, you are not being accused of anything. Your best friend, Clarissa, is worried about you as are your housemates. We know you are scared and frightened, but all we want is for you to return safely. Please, wherever you are, go to the nearest police station." He paused. "Serena, there is life, hope and a million and one dreams out there. You can achieve these."

"Chief Superintendent Bright," one journalist spoke. "I am from ITV Meridian News. Can you please tell us where Serena was heading when she disappeared?"

"Miss van Hayden was last seen at Gloucester Green Coach Station boarding a coach for Reading." She indicated the television set on its stand to their left, the picture showing the CCTV footage of her last movements. Bright looked straight into the camera as the newspaper photographers took more pictures. "Serena, I am Chief Superintendent Jyoti Bright. As James Hathaway here has said, you are not in any trouble. We all just want to know you are safe. Just please call and tell us where you are."

Hathaway once more showed the picture of Serena to the cameras. "This is Serena van Hayden," he repeated. "If anyone has any information or know of her whereabouts, please can you call Oxford City CID. Thank you." He and Bright both stood up to leave.

"Detective Inspector Hathaway?" Another journalist stopped them both in their tracks. "Can you confirm that this is in no way related to the three murders that have happened on your patch recently?"

"I can confirm that this is  _not_ in any way related," Bright answered for him. "Thank you, everyone." She and Hathaway quickly left.

"Who told them?" Hathaway asked angrily. "This will only drive her further underground."

"Let's hope not, shall we?" Even Bright was less than impressed. "Have you contacted Clarissa's family?"

"Am about to now, ma'am." Bright watched as Hathaway walked down the corridor and shook her head slowly. She was worried about him. She caught sight of Mitch standing nearby.

"How are you finding working with him?" she asked.

Mitch shrugged his shoulders. "We all know about Hathaway, ma'am," he answered. "But at the same time, we can't help but admire and feel sorry for him."

"Quite." Bright took note of the time. "Stephen should be back on duty soon, Mitchell. You will be relieved soon enough." She walked away.

"Ma'am." Mitch watched as she disappeared and walked inside the office behind him.

* * *

Clarissa's parents formerly identified their daughter's body and Aurora set about releasing her back to them. Hathaway meanwhile watched from the window in the corridor. This should not have happened. Clarissa should have still been alive and she should have been the one to lead the appeal. Hathaway began to tire of all these young dead bodies and wondered what was the whole point? What was the point of being in the police force anymore? It didn't fulfil him as much as it used to. He began to hate waking up each morning to head for the same brick building, the same office, the same bullshit. He was beginning to get fed up of the same dead bodies, the same investigative crap, the same thing day after day. Is this all Oxford had to offer – the same style of murders? For goodness sake, this wasn't Midsomer, at least offer some variety! Something different to use that Cambridge educated head of his. Hathaway began to feel his degree or even his way of thinking wasn't being put to good use any longer; that he deserved better. He clenched his fist trying to control the frustration and that sudden wave of displeasure that came over him. He walked away once he saw Clarissa's parents finish with the forms Aurora gave them and exited pathology, lighting up a cigarette once he hit the fresh air and took the longest drag he could muster. His thoughts turned to Caroline and how she too was beginning to piss him off. He felt his gold chain around his neck suddenly and thought of their upcoming wedding, if in fact it was ever going to happen. Hathaway took one final drag of his cigarette and butted it out on the disposal box on the wall behind him, dumping the end into the compartment. He phone rang just as he was about to leave.

"Hathaway," he answered as he walked down the steps. "Yep." He stopped. "Where? Are you sure?" He ran the short distance to his vehicle. "On my way." He hurriedly turned the key in the ignition as he got in only to stop as his phone rung again. He saw Caroline's name flash up but chose to ignore it. He reversed out and drove at high speed out of the compound.

* * *

Brian hurriedly packed a sports bag and rushed out of his and Clarissa's bedroom. He ran down the stairs and paused to grab a few items from the table by the door. He grabbed his jacket and keys and was about to run out when the tall figure of Hathaway appeared in the pathway blocking his exit. A look of panic came over the rugby player's face as he dropped his belongings and ran back inside and down the corridor towards the kitchen. He saw a few uniformed officers and Mitch run towards the back door and turned back to run from where he came from only to stop as Hathaway appeared in the doorway. He grinned his hello and Brian knew he was surrounded. He stopped and bowed his head admitting defeat. Hathaway walked in as Mitch entered the kitchen.

"Hello, Brian," Hathaway said to him. "Now, where are you going in such a hurry?" He flashed another grin. Brian turned his head sharply and saw Mitch walking casually towards him.

"I was just heading out," Brian replied nervously. Hathaway shrugged his shoulders.

"With a bag?" he asked. "Disappearing somewhere are we? Maybe you know where Serena is?"

"That mixed up jump start?!" Brian scoffed quite cruelly. "Do me a favour!"

"Then tell us where you were going?" Mitch asked. Brian looked at him one more time.

"None of your business!" he replied.

"Oh, I think it is." Hathaway approached the student. "You do know where Serena is. Actually, she knows what you know. I reckon you are scarpering off to find her."

"And do what?" Brian replied. "Why would I waste my time looking for her?"

"Sir?" A uniformed officer stopped Hathaway from going further. He turned and saw the officer holding up Brian's bag in one hand – with a jar of coloured beads in the other. Brian winced and Hathaway looked at him.

"Well, look what we have here, Brian? A jar with coloured beads. I think we should continue with this down the station, don't you?" His tone was quite smug. Brian sighed and had no choice. He walked past Hathaway to another grin. Mitch got the other uniformed officers to undergo a search of the kitchen before he and Hathaway escorted Brian to their car outside.

* * *

A folder landed on the table and Brian looked at it. He was inside an interview room at the station. In front of him, both Hathaway and Mitch were looking straight at him waiting for him to speak. It seemed like ages. Hathaway couldn't wait any longer and opened the folder. He took out a picture of Serena and turned it round so Brian could look at it. The student didn't entertain it even once.

"Where is she?" Hathaway asked.

"How should I know?" Brian answered. "She doesn't tell anyone anything. We all have to second guess half the time." But Hathaway ignored him.

"Where is she, Brian? What has she got on you?"

"How should I know?!" Brian grew irritated. "Why am I even here?"

"Where is Clarissa, Brian?" Hathaway glanced at Mitch, who asked the question. Brian looked at him but didn't reply. "Come on now! She is your girlfriend. You must know where she is!"

"I haven't seen her for a couple of days," Brian eventually replied with a sigh. "She probably went out looking for her." He leaned forward. "Maybe you should worry about finding her instead rather than hassling me…" Hathaway suddenly lunged forward and thumped his fist on the table setting Brian backwards in his chair.

"Don't mess with us, Brian!" he said angrily. "I remember your last visit here. Clarissa seemed very annoyed by your attitude and looking at you now, I am not surprised. You might be able to pull the wool over her eyes, but not with me and certainly not with my colleague here. Tell us where Serena is!" Brian looked at Hathaway and then at Mitch, who didn't look very happy neither. He eventually sighed heavily and sat up straight.

"Serena was spooked out about something. She came back to the house more withdrawn than normal. She wouldn't speak to anyone, not even Clarissa." Hathaway decided to sit down opposite him. Mitch stayed standing. Brian stopped but Hathaway wanted him to carry on. This made the student even more agitated. He sighed irritably. "She locked herself in her room, not coming out. We all gave up trying. Then one day, we all wanted to go punting on the Cherwell. We asked Clarissa if she would like to come, but as usual, she wouldn't come out of her room. Then one of the guys called out from downstairs saying she cleaned the kitchen spotless. We all knew it was Serena. She would only do it if something was really bothering her. Look, we honestly don't know where she is." Brian's tone softened, as if he was admitted defeat in his stubbornness. "Knowing Serena, she would always come back. But, Clarissa was adamant that this time something had happened to her."

"Your attitude was different when you were last here," Hathaway told him. "It was like you really hated her and her disorder." He took out the papers from the folder and passed them to him. "She had been through a lot, Brian. She witnessed the murder of her grandparents when she was five-years-old. So… she isn't 'strange' or 'weird'. She is still a very traumatised individual. So, I am asking you again – what is it she knows that you do!"

Brian shook his head in disgust, knowing that what he just explained didn't wash. "I told you!" His teeth were clenched. "I do not know where she is or whatever she is meant to have discovered, if anything." Hathaway looked away, absolutely appalled. The smirked he displayed was not in jest. He stood up and walked to the far end of the room to control himself. Mitch decided to take over.

"So, tell us where you were going then – if you have nothing to hide?"

"None of your business!" Mitch chuckled albeit sarcastically.

"What about that jar of coloured beads? Thrashing is long over, Brian. Where were you going with those?"

"Oh, I dunno… Embroidery class?" Brian's tone equalled Mitch's sarcasm.

"Clarissa is  _dead_ , Brian!" That shut the student up. "She was found battered and broken with a jar of coloured beads beside her. Funnily enough, two other bodies were found both with a jar of the same scattered nearby! Now, before my boss here does or says something to  _really_ piss you off, tell us where the hell you were going and what you were doing with a jar of bloody coloured beads?!" Hathaway turned, completely stunned at what Mitch said and how he said it. He decided to let the youngster take over and stood to observe. Brian was shell shocked, his mouth slightly open. The words of the detective sunk in slowly and gradually he came to the realisation. A tear fell down his cheek. He looked at Mitch and glanced at Hathaway at the back of the room.

"Clarissa… Clarissa is dead?"

"Yes, she is." Brian looked at Mitch and suddenly burst into tears. He indicated for a pen and pad of paper and Mitch obliged. He moved the folder and the documents and the photo so Brian could jot down the information. Hathaway walked out of the interview room and stormed down the corridor. Bright walked out of the viewing room next door and saw him.

"Not now, ma'am!" Hathaway strode past her and turned the corner. Bright, a bit peeved at his response, said nothing and walked back inside. She watched as Mitch took the pad and pen back from Brian and picked up the folder. He left the picture of Serena with a few more words for Brian before leaving. Bright turned her head as Mitch walked in. They both watched the student continue to grieve for his girlfriend.

"Good work, Mitchell," Bright said.

"Cheers, ma'am" Mitch replied. He gave the folder to her. "I'll give this info on this pad to Jim."

"Do you think he knows anything?"

Mitch glanced at the pad of paper.

"He knows something, but what I do not know."

"What about Serena's whereabouts?"

"He's holding back. I left that picture in there deliberately. Hopefully, his guilt will spill over his grief. I'll give him 10 minutes."

"All right." Mitch left leaving Bright to ponder about things. Perhaps she made a hasty decision in regards Hazel's assessment for promotion. She continued to watch as Brian buried his face in his hands and thought about Hazel. She knew what she had to do and walked out of the room.

* * *

Hathaway slammed his desk drawer in fury and sat down in his chair. He began to beat himself up, he didn't know why, about every single thing. He felt guilty about Hazel, about Gemma and especially about Caroline. He also began to feel guilty he probably wouldn't be able to save Serena and half expected her to be found somewhere. He reopened the letter again and began to read. It was the results of something he inquired on the sly just before he and Caroline left County Hall. He knew he went against her wishes, but he loved her so much he wanted to find out whether there was any truth in what her father had said to her. Brian's attitude just angered him and got him thinking about how, in contrast, he thought about Caroline. He picked up his desk phone and dialled the number written on the piece of paper.

"Hello, my name is James Hathaway. I was wondering if I could speak to the person in charge, please?" He paused. "I'm calling from Thames Valley Police in Oxford." He covered the mouthpiece as he was placed on hold and waved Mitch inside. He took the pad of paper from him and glanced at the notes. He straight away put the phone down and stood up. "Heard anything back from the search of the kitchen?"

"Spotless."

"Figures. Go back to Brian and release him."

"Jim?" Mitch was astonished at the request. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"What about Serena?"

"I think I know where she is. If Brian is as stupid as he looks, he will follow." Hathaway picked up his phone. "Gideon!" He listened and nodded his head. "Thanks for your help." He looked at Mitch. "Let's go." He made a move to leave.

"Where to?" Mitch asked following him.

"I'll explain on the way." They quickly walked through a set of double doors and hurried down the corridor.

* * *

Gideon Rockford met the two Oxford detectives on a country road by huge acres of field in the middle of the Gloucestershire countryside. Uniformed officers with sniffer dogs gathered nearby waiting for their cue to proceed. Hathaway and Mitch ran over to Gideon where they got the lowdown of what he had found. He pointed to a clearing in the distance by a dense cluster of trees. Hathaway nodded and he and Mitch ran in that direction. Gideon gave the officers their orders and the dogs barked enthusiastically as they led their handlers across the road and into the field on the opposite side. They followed the trail Hathaway and Mitch left behind. The two detectives ran into the cluster and Hathaway called out for Serena.

"It's James Hathaway!" he continued. "Where are you, Serena? You are not in any trouble."

Mitch walked past him looking upwards at his surroundings. "Serena?" he called out. "I'm Mitchell. I'm a friend and colleague of James Hathaway's. Come on, you'll be all right. Can you just show us a sign of where you are? We'll come to you." But, there was no response. The two detectives looked at each other before walking further in.

"Serena!" Hathaway called out, his deep voice echoing around the darkish cluster of trees. "Serena!"

"Miss van Hayden!" Mitch's echo bounced off Hathaway's. He suddenly heard a shuffle and held his hand out for Hathaway to stop.

"What is it?" he asked in a low voice.

"I heard something." Mitch walked further ahead. Hathaway turned and motioned to the uniformed officers to tread carefully.

Mitch walked past a couple of trees and noticed some coloured bead dust on the undergrowth by his feet. "Serena?" His voice was a notch quieter, but still loud enough. "Is that you?" He stepped back suddenly as some more coloured beads landed near his feet. Mitch looked up being guided by Hathaway's pocket torch. In a tree beside them, sitting on one of the top branches, was Serena. She was playfully swinging her legs and holding a fairly large jar on her lap. Her rucksack was leaning against the trunk to her right hand side. Hathaway stood beside Mitch and looked up.

"Serena," he said almost relieved. Serena just stared at him, not saying a word. Hathaway gave Mitch his torch and walked a couple of steps in front holding out his hand. "Come on, come down. You will be all right. You won't come to any harm." Serena just continued to stare at him, not moving an inch. Hathaway took off his jacket and Mitch took it from him. "I'm coming up," he told her only to step back as another mass of coloured beads came crashing down. Hathaway looked up. "I won't hurt you, Serena," he told her gently. "I'm your friend. We can talk. You can tell me all about yourself." He began to wish Hazel was here. Serena shook her head violently.

"Do you like coloured beads, Serena?" Mitch asked. "They're quite pretty aren't they, the way they make intricate patterns on the ground?" He noticed a slight reaction from Serena, the kind of resonation, of agreement. He smiled warmly at her. "What happened?" he asked her. "Why did you run away? You have exams soon." He noticed a tearful look on Serena's face. "You can tell James and me what happened. We won't judge you in any way." Serena looked into Mitch's eyes, his kind and soft eyes and hesitated. She suddenly tensed up as she sensed movement towards her left. The dogs behind the detectives started barking and Serena grew frightened.

"Don't tell them anything, Serena!" To both detectives' surprise, a completely different person showed up. He looked like he himself was about to embark on a trip somewhere. "They think you did it."

"We don't, Serena." Mitch tried to reassure her. Serena looked at both the lad to her left and at Mitch and didn't know who to believe. "You haven't done anything wrong. We know what happened to you before. We do not think you are guilty of anything except having a conscience."

"They're lying, Serena!" The lad moved forward. Mitch shone the torch in his direction and saw Jed standing there. He also noticed a badly stitched college crest on the breast pocket of his rugby varsity shirt like it was hurriedly replaced. "They're using your past against you. Just don't say a word." He looked at the two officers. "She doesn't know anything," he told them. "I'm Jed. I live with Serena." He turned his attentions back to Serena. "Come on, girl. Come down. I'll take you back." But, Serena shook her head again violently. The dogs suddenly started barking baying for blood, their handlers pulling them back. Jed looked in sheer fear at the animals and ran for his life back into the trees. The dog handlers gave their animals their cue and they ran in his direction disappearing into the shadows, Hathaway following them. As the barking of the dogs faded, Mitch shone the torch up to look at Serena properly.

"Did he do it, Serena?" he asked her kindly. "What about Brian?" Serena just looked at Mitch, her facial expressions relaxing. She looked at the jar on her lap and screwed the lid back on. She pointed to the ground and Mitch stepped back as the jar fell, coming to rest in a pile of leaves. He looked up at Serena again and smiled. Serena looked into Mitch's eyes and her lips broke the same in response.

* * *

Hathaway sprinted as fast as he could out of the other side of the cluster of trees and screamed in frustration as he found the field empty, no one in sight or sound. The dogs and their handlers had long gone ahead, but Hathaway knew they would also come to a dead end. This cannot go unsolved! This cannot be his first one in charge! He thought about Serena and ran back to where he came from.

* * *

Serena playfully swung her legs like a child and Mitch was watching her with a smile. He once again outstretched his hand and asked her to come down, but Serena thought this was a game he was playing and willingly went along with it. Mitch took note of a gust of wind that blew and knew the weather was probably going to turn any minute now. He tried again, a little more forceful but still with kindness. Serena shook her head with a grin, still wanting to play. Hathaway ran back towards them completely out of breath. He looked at Mitch and shook his head. Serena gasped suddenly and both detectives looked up at her.

"Serena?" Hathaway asked gently. "What happened? Was it Jed?" He saw Serena with tears in her eyes shake her head violently again.

"She is dead, isn't she?" Her voice was timid, petrified, but just as childlike as the playful swinging of her legs.

"Is who dead?" Hathaway asked, not revealing anything for her protection. "Come down, Serena. It's getting cold. We can take you back to the station. Your friends Gideon and Rochelle are waiting for you with food and a hot drink."

"I didn't mean to run away." Serena now was sobbing. "I am sorry."

"No one is blaming you, Serena," Mitch said to her. He handed Hathaway back his torch and outstretched both his hands ready to collect her. "Jump. I'll catch you, don't worry." Serena studied Mitch's features and reached over to pick up her rucksack. She threw that on the ground and began to push herself from the branch she was sitting on. At that moment, one dog handler with his animal came back in. Hathaway looked at him.

"Sorry, sir. Nothing. He evaded us, but we found this. He may have dropped it."

Serena started screaming as she saw what the officer had in his hand. Hathaway rolled his eyes at the sheer stupidity of the officer's actions and straight away ordered him out, taking the item with him. Mitch knew she was going to hurt herself if she jumped without taking care and began climbing the tree. Hathaway turned his head and shone the torch to guide him.

"Careful, Mitch."

"Don't worry, I used to climb trees bigger than this when I was younger." He scaled the tree with ease and stood on a bough below Serena. He outstretched his free hand one more time. "Come on, Serena," he said to her. "I'm here. Just go down one and I'll collect you. Don't be scared. James and I will take care of you." Serena now was hesitant. She froze. Mitch tried again, nearly losing his balance. Serena screamed. Hathaway looked at the detective constable.

"Get down, Mitch!" he ordered more out of slight panic, but he went ignored.

"Come on, Serena," Mitch tried again. "Grab my hand. I'll carry you down." Serena swallowed hard and began the descent down. Mitch smiled and gave her more words of encouragement. She grabbed his hand and he held her close. "That a girl. Now, hold on, yeah?" He felt Serena nod her head and slowly and carefully began to climb down, stopping a few boughs from the bottom. Hathaway hurried over to meet them and dropped his torch on the ground as he picked up Serena and settled her down. He picked up his jacket to wrap it around her shoulders.

"You will be all right, Serena," he told her. "You're safe now." He then noticed the same look of fear in her eyes as she let out a bloodcurdling scream. Hathaway turned and saw Mitch falling to his death, the bough he was balancing himself on giving way. Hathaway yelled Mitch's name and ran forward to try and catch him, but he was too late, the loud and hollow thud making him look away instantly. Serena started to cry. She clutched herself tightly, rocking herself back and forth in a disturbed state. Hathaway, trying to hold back on his emotions, but was failing, took out his phone from his trouser pocket. He called for outside assistance – and an ambulance.

* * *

Hathaway stared into the opposite wall of his office, his thoughts and feelings all over the place. This wasn't happening to him! He was wondering why this was, why an officer in his prime such as Mitch could meet his end so abruptly? He struggled to maintain his composure as he spoke to his parents, deciding to go to theirs instead of calling them on the phone. His mother was wailing so loudly, his father in tears. He thanked Hathaway for being there in his last moments, that he was comforted that he didn't suffer and that he died saving a girl who needed his help. Hathaway left the house angry that he couldn't have foreseen it, that he could have done more. The funeral was your usual police force affair: CID and uniform dressed in full regalia, the flags of Thames Valley and Oxford City being held high by the flag bearers, the priest overseeing the full Catholic service sprinkling Holy Water over the coffin as it was laid six feet under. Bright and Hathaway stood solemnly to the side, letting the family grieve their final moments. She gently squeezed Hathaway's shoulder in sympathy before leaving as the burial ended. Hathaway respectfully waited until the last family member departed before walking forward. He looked at the earth dusted name plaque and dropped some leftover earth on top. He then stepped back and bowed his head, saying a silent prayer before walking away, leaving the grave diggers to get on with their job, the cemetery green and lush, the sounds of the birds singing in the trees.

He decided to pay a visit to Grace's grandmother, to let her know what happened. Hathaway tried very hard to break the news gently, choosing his words carefully, but also apologising profusely for his failure. He also handed her a box that held Grace's cremated remains. Mrs Staveley, though upset and tearful, reassured Hathaway by holding his hand letting him know she didn't hold him accountable and that she is a firm believer in second chances. She also thanked him for bringing her little one back to her. Hathaway left the property not feeling any better. He wanted so much to go to the pub and get drunk but thought otherwise and decided to drive home.

Serena was led away by Rochelle into a room where she locked the door securely behind her. The walls were beautifully painted in gentle pastel colours, and there was a bed covered in a huge duvet and big, fluffy pillows against the wall. There was a small shelf on the wall opposite by the big bolted windows with loads of books and a television set was on its stand underneath. Serena sat down on the bed and looked at her surroundings. She picked up her bag and took out her favourite cuddly toy, the toy she refused to part with since the tragedy of her childhood. She took off her trainers and pushed herself further onto the bed, her back coming to a rest against the wall. She cuddled the toy tightly and rocking herself slowly, humming a tune to herself as she did so.

Hathaway walked into the house and chucked the keys onto the table below the mirror. He closed the door behind him and took off his jacket. The silence that greeted him was deafening and he wondered why he made the decision to come back. As he dragged his feet along the corridor, a faint sound was heard coming from the living room. Hathaway raised his head, his being lifted and his pace gathered. He opened the door and a familiar face turned to meet him. Hathaway couldn't hold his emotions in any longer as he ran forward, his sobbing filtering into the corridor and throughout the house.

* * *

A week later, Hathaway was standing by Bright's desk. He waited as she finished the report he just submitted. This was going to be his first unsolved case. There was no trace of either Jed or Brian; and Serena was now in secured accommodation, without visitors, until her prolonged treatment was completed – if it could ever be. Grace's murderer, if it was even related to the other two, was on the run and he had no idea who he was, where he was or even if he was in Oxford or even in the country! All port and airport alerts came back without any result. Hathaway faced the music bravely, knowing he did all he possibly could. A sudden movement from Bright brought him back down and he saw her close the folder as she finished. She took off her glasses and signed off the report next to Hathaway's signature before adding that to the file.

"First time for everything," she told him matter of factly. "How are you feeling?"

"Good thanks, ma'am."

"You did your best, James. Don't beat yourself up about this. You are not the first and won't be the last to have an unsolved crime on your record."

"Ma'am." Hathaway tried not to sound disheartened.

"I shouldn't have to tell you that the criminal always goes back to the scene of the crime. Just like Hemsworth, you will get your opportunity again."

"Yes, ma'am." Hathaway thought about what Mrs Staveley said to him and forced himself to smile as he left. He walked down the corridor when to his surprise, the familiar figure of Stephen Hazel greeted him from their office doorway. Hathaway smiled. "Stephen!" he said brightly.

"Hello, sir." Hathaway noticed how well his young sergeant looked.

"Feeling good?"

"Much better, sir. Much fitter." He showed Hathaway his neck. The wound had cleared up with only a tiny scar visible.

"Excellent," Hathaway commented. "Nell will be gutted though. She always loved a scar. Fancy a coffee?"

"Sure!" Hazel stepped back in to collect his coat. He quickly stepped out with his eyes wide open.  _He didn't hear right, did he?_  Hazel shook his head shaking off any doubt and ran after Hathaway down the corridor.

They stepped out onto the bright and sunny station car park, both detectives chatting and laughing away. Hathaway had his shades on as always and Hazel shielded his eyes with his right hand. They crossed the forecourt towards the latter's car when the loud sound of an engine forced them backwards. A rather swish and classic looking motorbike came speeding in, slowing down and coming to a halt as it settled in a parking space. Hathaway grinned and Hazel looked on in awe as a familiar figure disembarked taking off its headgear, revealing a much shorter and brighter hairstyle. Hazel gasped and jogged over, Hathaway following on at a slower pace.

"Gemma!" Hazel exclaimed. "Is this beast yours?" Gemma turned, and her face lit up on seeing him.

"Hiya, sarge. Sure is! Well, it's my Dad's. He gave it to me, or rather I 'borrowed' it."

"It's amazing!" Hazel walked around the Harley Davidson. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. He laughed suddenly overjoyed to see her and the two friends hugged each other tightly. "You feeling better?"

"It was touch and go," Gemma replied. "But, I'm a fighter, sarge! I am a Trewlove!" She noticed the look on Hazel's face. "I've retracted it," she whispered. She saw Hathaway and walked over to him. "Hiya, guv," she said with a smile. Hathaway took off his shades to look at the cycle and grinned. He stopped himself from hugging her.

"Glad to see you back, DC Richardson," he said to her. Gemma rolled her eyes jokingly and gave Hathaway a hug.

"There!" she said to Hazel's mirth. "Let's get that over with." Hathaway chuckled.

"We're going for coffee. Do you want to come?" Gemma looked at Hazel and that all familiar feeling came over him again.

"Sure thing! Let me bring these inside…"

"We're taking my car," Hazel told her. "You can leave those in there." Gemma smiled.

"All right! Cool!" It was Hazel's turn to grin and he took up Gemma's bag from the back. The three detectives walked down the car park together, laughing and joking, Gemma's London tones filling the air as she protested her innocence to a joke Hathaway cracked. Hazel threw his head back in laughter and she placed her headgear on his head. Hathaway chuckled as they all got in, Hazel starting the engine as Hathaway gave him the rather cool moniker from  _Top Gear_. Gemma squealed as Hazel lived up to his new name and sped down the car park, the screeches of the tyres making a huge noise as the vehicle disappeared out of the station…


End file.
